


How to Save a Life

by dreamofflight



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Happy Ending, M/M, References to Suicide, Slow Build, Suicide, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-13
Updated: 2013-01-13
Packaged: 2017-11-25 07:28:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 47,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/636543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamofflight/pseuds/dreamofflight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Having lost both of his parents in a terrible car accident, Dean Winchester lives a life filled with guilt and self-hate. That is until he calls a suicide hotline and the soothing voice of 'Cas' turns his life upside down...</p><p>Another tumblr roleplay with Ines (Camuizuuki), which means this is an RP fic, where the characters are shared between two people. There may be some overlap in actions/words and tenses may change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It's been raining for days, the color of the sky nothing but dull grey, streaked with dark thunderclouds. He's sitting in the backseat, leaning forward to talk to his mother on the passenger seat. She laughs at something he says and it's bright and sincere and he thinks that this might be one of his favourite sounds. He sees his father's eyes in the rearview mirror, smiling at the playful atmosphere in the car, and reaches out to pat his shoulder. His father's only distracted for a moment, turning his head at the sudden touch. Then there's a collision, metal clashing with metal, tires screeching and deafening cries of pain.

Dean wakes with a scream, beads of sweat on his forehead. He's alone. He raises his trembling hands to cup his face, hide the bloodshot eyes behind calloused skin and he cries. It's been two months since his parents died. Two months since Dean's carelessness had killed them. The image of his mother, staring at him, her bloody lips trying to form words before her eyes closed forever, haunts him. He bites his lip until he draws blood and cries, tears falling down on the dirty bedsheet. Pained sobs escape his lips followed by vengeful accusations and begging for forgiveness. He cuts himself, staring at his own, pathetic face in the bathroom mirror, while the blood runs from the wounds in his chest over his stomach and drip down on the tiled floor. His face is scruffy, his chin and upper lip covered in light brown stubble and his once bright green eyes look like nothing more than dirty brown by now. He never cuts his arms or legs or other visible spots – he doesn't want anyone to worry about him. The pain doesn't make him forget of course, but it helps, at least for a while. He doesn't go to work on that day and he shouldn't be surprised, when the manager calls in the afternoon, telling him that he doesn't need to bother coming back at all. After midnight he turns on the TV, although it's late and there's really nothing on but newscasts or porn. He zaps through the stations until he's tired of it, leaning back and listening half-heartedly to some guy trying to sell the latest miracle cure. He's already half asleep, when the commercials start and a marquee at the bottom of the screen catches his eye. It's a telephone number, followed by a couple of short phrases. 'You are not alone. You talk, we listen. Suicide is not the answer.'  
Dean huffs a laugh and sits up. 'What do they know?', he thinks, anger and guilt boiling up inside of him. He reaches for his phone, lying on the couch table in between a mess of empty beer bottles and other waste, and stares at the small screen for a full ten seconds before looking back at the TV and typing in the numbers still shown at the end of the advertisement.

* * * *

Castiel was not happy. Tonight was going to suck, but there wasn't anything he could do about it. 'Mandatory Community Service' the judge had said. In his opinion the ruling was unjustified. Sure, the guy had ended up in the hospital with a couple of cracked ribs, a broken jaw and 7 missing or broken teeth, but he had started the fight. No one gets to call Castiel a faggot, shove him around and get away with it, he just wasn't okay with that. He was even less okay with that same guy trying to hide behind his girlfriend and using her as a human shield. So he had decked the guy, and then the guy had broken a beer bottle on the back of his head when he was walking away, so Castiel had finished it.

And a month later he was here, at the Suicide hotline for the tiny town of Emporia. Until he finished his community service he wasn't allowed to leave Kansas, which was even worse than the community service itself Castiel thought. He wanted to go home to California, to the Sierra mountains and cool weather and no tornado warnings. It was the end of June and there were freak thunderstorms every other day, and the tiny motel he was staying in while he served out his sentence didn't have air conditioning, and the fucking roof leaked.

So needless to say, Castiel was not happy.

He had gone through the Suicide Hotline training earlier in the day, read all the literature and watched the videos. He had even gone through a couple fake calls with the night supervisor, who told him that while his wording was great, his voice was a little scary. Castiel had just growled at him that, 'This is just how I sound', and the guy had dropped it with a squeak of 'ok' and wide eyes. He was thankful for that small miracle in this otherwise hellhole of a month. Castiel just wanted to go home, find a decent job, and get back to trying to finish the boat he was building. Before he had to take this stupid trip back East for a long lost relative's funeral, he had been almost done with her. Now though he was going to have to redo some of the lacquer and possibly refinish any pieces if termites had gotten inside. It was that time of year after all.

His train of thought about his life back home is interrupted as the phone in front of him rings for the first time that night; it was Castiel's first real suicide hotline call and he could feel his pulse race a little bit. He frowns and waits another second, then picks up the phone and speaks in a clear, deep voice.

“Hello,... thank you for calling the Emporia Help Line, my name is Cas, how can I help you tonight?”

* * * *

The voice at the other end of the line is deep and gravelly and for a moment Dean wonders how the hell someone with a voice like this would ever consider working for a suicide hotline. There are a ton of other things he could imagine that voice saying, 90 % of them X-rated, but he shakes of that thought and realizes that it's his turn to say something.

"Cas?", he rasps out, his voice sounding more amused than anything. He figures that's what he's best at - making fun of other people, despite the fact that they might want to listen to his problems and help him. He hadn't talked to Sam, his younger brother, for weeks now. And of course Sammy didn't blame him, nobody did, at least not out loud. But Dean knew it was his fault. And he couldn't take looking in Sam's eyes, feeling the guilt and shame of knowing exactly that he was responsible for the death of their beloved parents. So Dean did what he thought was best for everyone: he stopped ignoring Sam's calls and pretended that everything was alright, asking about Sam's fiancee Jess and his job, having lunch with them every other day, keeping up the farce of a normal life. Everyone else had moved on, had accepted the cruel fate of Mary and John Winchester. Everyone but their oldest son.

* * * *

There's a soft sigh on the other end of the line, then Dean hears the man clear his throat and speak again, voice just as gravelly and reminiscent of someone who should be working on a 1-900 number instead of at a Suicide Hotline.

“Yes. Cas. It's a nickname. They told me my real name sounded too serious and would intimidate people, so I'm using my nickname.”

He picks up a pencil and twirls it in his fingers, wondering if this was how all of his calls would go, and almost hoping they would. So far the man on the other end hadn't done or said anything too obnoxious or depressing, and Castiel was thankful for that. He sits back in his chair, watching the cord on the ancient phone he was using stretch as his chair rocks back. 'They really need to get new phones in here', he thinks to himself, before reaching out to play with the curling cord. It's a faded and dirty tan color, much like the carpet in the pathetic office building room they were sequestered into. Castiel had been less than impressed when he first showed up earlier in the evening, and after taking in the medium sized main room, small coffee room, bathroom and 3 private offices, he realized three things. 1, this place was severely under funded. 2, it hadn't been re-decorated since kittens hanging on tree branch posters with the motto 'hang in there!' were the rage in the 70s. 3, this was going to be where he would spend the next month, 6 nights of the week. He was screwed. Community service sucked.

* * * *

Dean huffs out a laugh. So that guys real name was even more weird than his nickname? He doesn't say anything, though. The way the other man had been talking to him was different now, not too annoyed but Dean could hear that there was no messing around with this guy.

"Okay", he slowly says, reaching out for a half-emptied bottle of beer and downing the last few sips at once "So Cas... tell me, how exactly is this pain in the ass that you guys call 'life' worth living?"

* * * *

And here we go... Castiel takes a deep breath and is about to spout out the crap that they told him to say about how people will miss you and how much you'll hurt them if you leave- but he hesitates, biting his lower lip and frowning.

“...Well... what else is there really?... there's no guarantee about the after life. No one has any real proof, and I'm not going to trust some televangelist with where I'm going after this place...”

He pauses and speaks again, his voice taking on a softer tone.

“... To me death would be an escape from any pain you're in. But it would also be an escape from everything else. Sunrises and sunsets, good food and bad movies. Family and friends and potential connections with absolute strangers. The rush of doing something against the rules and making love and the smell of a forest after it rains. I just wouldn't want to miss everything this world has to offer. I haven't seen enough or done enough or experienced it all. That's why we're here right? To feel. Everything. Good and bad.”

* * * *

There's a witty response somewhere inside him, on the tip of his tongue maybe, but Dean swallows it down. He had been curious about the crap those people would tell him, lifeless phrases like the ones on the TV advertisement. But this is different. This guy, Cas... his words sound genuine and heartfelt and so different than anything Dean would've expected. The beer bottle slips out of his hands and the clattering sound it makes when it hits the laminate floor startles him.

"To feel, huh?", Dean repeats, his voice now weak and defenseless. He doesn't have to pretend with this guy. He doesn't know him and even if he secretly judges him, Dean wouldn't have to deal with it. All he would have to do is hanging up. "But what if... what if there's too much pain, Cas? What if I can't see the sunrise and food tastes bland to me? And how could anyone love me... when I hate myself so much..."

* * * *

“... I've found that even when we don't think we deserve it, even when everything is gray and you're disgusted with yourself... there's always someone who loves you..... What's your name?”

Castiel is finding that his throat is feeling a little stiff as the guy's voice changes, becoming small and scared over the phone. Castiel has never been one for over abundant affection, but the urge to speak softly and shush the man and tell him everything would be okay is stronger than he thought it would be when he was ordered to take this job. He assumed everyone would be whiny teenagers complaining about their homework and their parents not buying them the newest iPod. There's something in this man's voice that makes Castiel know that there's real pain there, and he fights back his urge to say the sappiest crap that comes to mind, knowing it will do no good.

* * * *

Dean thinks for a moment, trying to come up with a good alias cause that's what you do when you call a help line, isn't it?

"Alex", he says after a short pause, feeling guilt throbbing in his stomach. 'This is only some stranger' he tells himself 'I don't owe him anything, even less my real name.'

He looks down on his hands, the scars of the car crash still faintly visible, and shakes his head, concentrating on the conversation again.

"You sound pretty sure of that, Cas... have you ever been... you know... disgusted with yourself?"

* * * *

“Of course. I'd be worried if I hadn't.”

Castiel can't help but smile a little and chuckle.

“If I'd never felt disgusted with myself then I'd be afraid I was some kind of sociopath with no morals or feelings at all.”

* * * *

He hears the other man laughing and for a moment Dean's not sure if he's serious or just messing with him.

"I'm not talking about regretting an unfortunate decision", he says slowly, voice quiet and calm but there's anger boiling somewhere beneath "I'm talking about looking in the mirror, every day, and seeing a bad person. Someone who shouldn't be free, someone... someone who shouldn't have the right to live after what he'd done."

His voice breaks and he falls silent as he feels tears forming in the corner of his eyes.

* * * *

Castiel stills, hearing ‘Alex’s voice get quiet and calm but the way he finishes his sentences is clipped, like he’s reigning in something dark inside. He pauses again and then charges ahead into the territory that he knew ‘Alex’ was skirting, hoping that if he approached it first then maybe the man would be more relaxed about opening up.

“No Alex… I’ve never felt like that… Is there anything you want to tell me? Something you need to talk about?”

* * * *

There it is. The big question, Dean knew would come up eventually. He considers lying, telling Cas that ‘no, there’s nothing’ and that he just hated his life without any reason. The thing is… Dean feels bad enough for lying about his real name. He can’t bring himself to lie about this topic, the very reason he called this number in the first place.

“I killed my parents.”

* * * *

There's a quiet pause on the other end as Castiel's breath hitches, then he speaks again, his deep voice calm and quiet.

“Alex... what happened...?”

The words are carefully chosen, and Castiel has stopped fiddling with the cord on the phone, and his chair is upright again, feet planted firmly on the ground. He feels a little sick to his stomach, the bomb that 'Alex' just dropped so hard to handle. Castiel is afraid that this is real, and that this man has just killed his parents recently, and is confessing his crime to Cas over the phone, rather than the police.

* * * *

Dean bites his lip, trying his hardest to remain calm. His lips are trembling when he opens them again and his voice is hoarse, as he tells Cas everything. He tells him about the dinner at their father's friend, Bobby, how Dean had volunteered to help him fixing his car and how his parents had agreed to wait for him, staying longer than they had initially planned. He tells him about the storm that had been approaching, the rain that had been pelting down on the windshield of the SUV. His throat goes dry when he thinks about the accident and he needs a moment to calm down a little before speaking again, his voice nothing more than a whisper. "Dad turned 'round because I distracted him... he didn't see that other car and... and-"

* * * *

Castiel pulls the phone away from his mouth as he lets out a sigh of relief. 'Alex' hadn't really killed his parents, he hadn't murdered them. This was an accident. It haunted him, that was very obvious, but 'Alex' wasn't a cold blooded killer. Castiel feels his heart tighten at the pain in the other man's voice, and he finds himself wishing he could reach through the phone line to hug the man- a very weird thought for Castiel.

“Alex... this sounds like it was an accident... Accidents, by definition, are unpredictable, and have no direct cause.”

He sighs softly into the phone.

“It doesn't sound like it was your fault. You said it was raining right? Roads are harder to navigate when it's raining. Do you think this would have happened if it had been a sunny day?”

* * * *

Dean shakes his head, a pained smile on his lips.

"Do you really think it helps me to play 'what if'? What if I didn't make them stay to help Bobby, what if it hadn't been raining, what if my dad didn't turn around? It doesn't change anything... they're dead and I'm responsible..."

* * * *

He struggles on how to respond, and considers handing the phone off to the supervisor, but decides against it. 'The world isn't fair. It's cruel and crushing and can steal everything away from you. That doesn't make what happened your fault. There were a hundred different reasons why the crash happened. You could just as easily blame the rain, or the road, or the tires. You're not solely responsible for what happened...', Castiel thinks to himself, wanting so badly to convince 'Alex' that he's not to blame. He opens his mouth, and instead of a well thought out response, all that tumbles out is,

“... So why are you still here... calling me?”

* * * *

For a moment Dean is totally taken aback. He considers hanging up and doing it, killing himself and leaving a note for an idiot named 'Cas' who should consider getting himself another job. But then, all of a sudden, there's a smile on his face, tiny and crooked but it's a smile.

"Dude, I've been asking myself that same fucking question over and over", he sighs and he realizes - it feels good talking about this, sharing his thoughts and feelings and for once not being handled with kid gloves "But seriously - you're like the worst Samaritan ever!"

* * * *

Castiel chokes out a soft laugh after holding his breath while 'Alex' responded to his fucking idiotic retort. He had immediately regretted it the moment that the words came out of his mouth, and had clapped a hand over the stupid piehole that just decided to speak without waiting for his brain to catch up. But 'Alex' had taken it remarkably well.

“... Sorry... I know. You're actually my first call, um, ever.”

He grimaces but realizes that the man on the other end can't see it, so keeps talking, quickly.

“This, well, it's not really my job. I got assigned here for community service. You want to talk to someone else?”

* * * *

Dean snorts, shaking his head vigorously.

"No, don't bother... you're actually the first person who doesn't treat me like a fragile flower... it's kind of... refreshing..."

* * * *

 

“Everyone else tries to convince you it's not your fault too?”

Castiel leans back in his chair and hums for a second before speaking again.

“I could see how that could be annoying... you know, people loving and caring for you.”

He hopes he's not overstepping his bounds, but it seems like a hard ass routine actually works with this guy. Which is great, because Castiel was having a hard time being so touchy feely earlier in the conversation.

* * * *

Dean chuckles - actually full-on chuckles - at that.

"You have no idea, dude... my brother and his girlfriend kept telling me that over and over until... well, until I pretended to believe it myself."

He falls silent again, feeling the guilt of lying at the people who care about him, kick back in.

* * * *

Castiel smiles softly and when he speaks it's with a tone of longing.

“You have a brother? I've always wanted a brother...”

Castiel's family was... odd, to say the least. His Father was there, but not, gone in his own head all the time and his Mother tried her hardest but had finally succumbed to liver failure from drinking away her sorrows about 5 years ago. He had an older sister, Anna, but Castiel hadn't seen her in years. Castiel had friends, of course, but none of them were really family.

* * * *

Dean bites his lip, listening to the other man and suddenly feeling bad.

"You know, not that I'm an expert but I think you're supposed to listen to my problems, not the other way round", he says after a short pause but his tone is warm and before Cas can say anything he adds "I really don't mind though. It sure beats watching QVC."

* * * *

“So what, I'm not allowed to have feelings now?”

Castiel snickers and then talks again in a robotic voice.

“I shall listen. To all. Your. Problems.”

He found that with 'Alex' opening up, he was actually enjoying himself. It was a lot like talking to his friends back home, just talking for hours about anything and everything. He could be his slightly quirky, weirdo self and they tolerated it, most of the time.

* * * *

"Okay, stop it, it starts hurting MY feelings", Dean says in an overly dramatic voice. "You know, I should let you get your superior and complain about you. You're not really helping, all you're doing is insulting me and making fun of me."

He laughs and gets up of the sofa, for the first time in hours, and walks over to the kitchen to get another beer. He looks around and suddenly - just as if he'd never been here before - notices how dirty it is. He bends down to pick up litter from the ground, throwing it in the garbage can in the corner. Better.

* * * *

Castiel grins, loving that 'Alex' is bantering back with him.

“Sorry. Can't help it. Everyone else in your life can baby you, but you said I was refreshing, so I aim to stay that way. I'm like lemonade on a summer day, Alex.”

Castiel gets up, signaling to his supervisor that he wants a headset so his hands are free. The man brings him one, frowning at Cas for seemingly not taking the phone call seriously. Castiel just rolls his eyes at the man and sits back down.

* * * *

"Dammit, you're right", Dean fake curses and continues to tidy up the kitchen, clearing the countertop piece by piece from garbage, old newspapers, mouldy leftovers and dirty dishes "I shouldn't've told you that."

Returning to the living-room he turns off the TV and then walks over to open the balcony door. He steps outside in the fresh night air and takes a deep breath.

"So, Cas... you said you always wanted a brother... you're an only child, then?"

* * * *

Castiel switches over to the headset quickly, the only thing 'Alex' hears is a click, then Cas is back.

“No... I have an older sister, Anna. I haven't seen her in a few years though.”

He frowns slightly, debating telling 'Alex' anything more, then just dives in anyway.

“She moved out when she was 17 to get away from our parents. I haven't seen her since she graduated college about four years ago. She moved to Italy, I think, to continue her studies.”

* * * *

Dean nods, taking another step forward and resting his forearms on the railing of the balcony.

"Doesn't sound like you guys were close...", he says and again feels kind of bad. He always had had a good relationship with his brother, they loved each other unconditionally. And up until a few months ago they had seen each other at least once a week. Sunday had been family day. Their mom had cooked and they'd sat outside on the terrace and talked for hours. He gulps, blinking away the first tears and sucking in another breath. He doesn't want to ask about Cas' parents cause if his sister had wanted to 'get away from them' as soon as possible, apparantly there was something wrong with them. And Dean can't deal with that, other people talking about their parents. It still hurts too much. So he changes the subject.

"So how did you end up here? What did you do?"

* * * *

“... You're going to laugh at me.”

Castiel clears his throat and takes a deep breath before speaking in a voice that's almost a whisper.

“I decked some guy in a bar for calling me a faggot.”

He runs one of his hands down his face and laughs behind it so the sound comes out a little muffled. Saying it out loud, it sounded incredibly childish. Castiel was a quirky guy, funny at times, but he was far from childish. Most often he was incredibly serious, with a strange sense of humor most people didn't get- which kept his circle of friends relatively small.

* * * *

Dean doesn't laugh. He's actually far from laughing at Cas or what he just said. Some of his friends are gay and he'd grown up being tolerant and accepting about this life style.

"I hope that taught him a lesson", he finally says, not sure if asking 'well, are you? gay I mean?' would be appropriate.

* * * *

Castiel smiles and can't help the slight swell of pride inside at 'Alex's praise. "Well... This might be a little morbid,... but I'm glad you were my first call." It's true too. Castiel was finding that he wasn't annoyed by talking with this guy- and in fact almost half an hour had passed since they started talking.

* * * *

For a moment there's silence on the line but before Cas can ask if Dean is still there, he chuckles and replies "Totally inappropriate, dude."

Walking back inside and closing the balcony door behind him, Dean clears his throat.

"I think I'll better hang up before I get into trouble... you know, for blocking the line..."

He doesn't want to hang up, though, and that surprises him...

* * * *

Castiel is quiet for a minute before he speaks, his voice serious.

“… You’re not gonna do anything, are you Alex?”

Fuck. How the hell do you casually ask someone if they’re going to commit suicide? There was no good way to ask that, despite what they tell you to ask. ‘Do you have a plan?’  
SO stupid. Castiel groans inwardly and hangs his head, hoping Alex wasn’t going to flip out at him.

* * * *

“Hm?”, Dean hums and for a second he’s got no idea what the other man is talking about. Then he realizes what this is, who he’s talking to and why he called. “No… no, Cas, I’m not going to ‘do’ anything… not tonight…”

He smiles cause he can hear the genuine concern in Cas’ voice.

“You saved my life… quite a record for your first call, huh?”

And with that he hangs up.

* * * *

Castiel feels his heart clench in his chest as 'Alex' hangs up and he shuts his eyes, trying to calm himself. Who knew talking someone down from suicide could make you so emotional? They'd warned him about this, but he hadn't taken it seriously, of course.  
The rest of the night goes okay, and he only gets a handful more calls, mostly from middle aged men or women depressed with their lives or teenagers. Each call affects him differently, but none actually touch him the way the call with 'Alex' had.  
Castiel spends the next week working nights at the Hotline, days sleeping, and early evenings wandering around the tiny town of Emporia. Every now and then when the phone rings at 2 in the morning, he thinks it might be 'Alex', and finds it a little strange that he's disappointed that it's not. By the end of the week though, he's happy 'Alex' hasn't called back, because that means the man must be starting to feel a little less guilty, and maybe he was moving on with his life.  
And that made Castiel inexplicably happy.

* * * *

Despite Dean's rediscovered optimism it's not a good week. Having no job and no secured income, Dean finds himself confronted with the prospect of losing his apartment. He's got some money out of his parents' inheritance so he won't lose the roof over his head for another two or so months - but the dark cloud is there now and it's not going away, not unless he finds another job, which he knows in his current situation is impossible. He curses himself for being so stupid, so careless to let the only thing giving his life some sort of stability, slip out of his hands. It's Friday night and he's dead drunk, when he finds the number of the Help Line in his call register and decides he needs to talk to Cas.

* * * *

Castiel was getting the hang of this, and was able to handle calls much easier now. He wasn't able to talk to any of the people that called in the way he could talk to “Alex', but he found that the cheesy lines they wanted him to use weren't so bad if he read them the way he wanted to, or altered them.  
When the phone rings at 1:30, Cas answers it with a neutral tone and gentle voice.

“Hello, thank you for calling the Emporia Hotline, my name is Cas, how can I help you?”

* * * *

"You're still there", Dean slurs, his head falling back against the headboard of his bed, as a content smile spreads on his lips "Still saving people, Cas..."

* * * *

A quick smile flashes over his lips as he recognizes the voice.

“Alex.”

Then he realizes that Alex is slurring, and that he's called the Helpline again. Castiel frowns and speaks quietly.

“How are you?”

* * * *

He wonders who this 'Alex' is that Cas is talking to for a moment, before he remembers it's his alias and huffs out a laugh.

"I'm... I'm awesome...", he says with the same enthusiasm and falls silent again. Then, slowly, quietly he continues "I'm stupid... I'm so fucking stupid! I lost my job and I'll lose my aparment and I'm gonna end up on the goddamn street..."

* * * *

“What happened that you lost your job?”

He stands up and walks over to one of the empty offices, closing the door behind him with a wave to the supervisor. The man had grown to trust Castiel more over the past week, and he was allowed to take sensitive calls in the quiet of the private offices.  
Castiel sits down at the desk and shuts his eyes, listening to 'Alex' breath on the other end, and wishing that he could do something more than just talk to him to help.

* * * *

Dean huffs out a bitter laugh and bangs his fist against the headboard above him

"Aren't you listening? I lost it because I'm a stupid piece of shit!", he yells and suddenly the tears are back again, tears of desperation but mostly tears of anger.

"I screwed up, Cas", he sobs quietly, raising his hand with reddened knuckles to cover his face "I just didn't show up and they fired me... of course they did, I would've done the same..."

* * * *

Castiel is quiet for a minute, before he speaks in a calm but firm voice.

“... That's still crappy that they fired you Alex... I saw some job openings while I was walking around town this week... What are you good at?”

He's hoping that once Alex is done letting his frustrations out that he'll be open to Castiel's suggestions, and help.

* * * *

It takes Dean a while to get down though, trying to fight back the tears streaming over his face and soaking into his clothes.

"I... I dunno... I'm good with my hands, I guess..."

He quickly gives Castiel a few background details, about how he studied mechanical engineering and helped his dad in his car repair shop when he found the time.

* * * *

Castiel spends the next 20 minutes talking to 'Alex' about the different jobs he's seen available in town, and trying to remember exactly where they are and who he would need to talk to about them.

“There aren't a lot available, but I think those could give you a lead. If you need a place to stay until you find a job, I mean, if you're losing your place soon, there's a really cheap boarding house on Main street, and there's also a shelter off of 3rd Avenue... You learn a lot when you're talking to people for 8 hours a night...”  
There's a sad smile in his voice as he says this, and he sighs gently.

* * * *

Dean is actually pretty amazed with the amount of information Cas had been able to memorize. He reaches out to pull a piece of paper and a pen out of his nightstand and scribble down the names and addresses Cas tells him about. When he starts talking about boarding houses and homeless shelters, Dean jerks a little, quickly interrupting the other man "I'm not losing my apartment", he says decisively "I'm not going to live in any of those places."

'I'll die first', he thinks.

* * * *

Castiel can hear the firmness in 'Alex's voice, so he drops it.

“Okay.”

He is quiet for a moment before he speaks.

“Have you ever gone skydiving?”

It's completely random, but Castiel has been bored out of his mind and surfing the internet recently, looking for anything to divert his attention from how crappy Kansas can be when you don't know anyone and your job makes you a night owl.

* * * *

Dean blinks at the sudden change of subject but deep inside he's grateful for it. He hasn't, of course, he tells Cas but he had done a bungee jump a few years ago, something he's secretly still very proud of.

"I'm telling you, man, it's pretty much the best feeling ever!", he says, the enthusiasm in his voice almost surprising himself.

* * * *

Castiel grins at how excited Dean sounds.

“I've never done either of those... I'm not really a thrill seeker... though I'm beginning to see the upsides of some adrenaline. This town is very dull...”

He sighs and rests his head on the desk, shutting his eyes for a moment. He couldn't wait to get home. Only three more weeks and I am out of here, Castiel thinks. Back to the beautiful Sierras, his boat, and his house on the Lake.

* * * *

Dean sighs at how frustrated Cas sounds.

"I guess it is", he says, a little reluctant cause he'd grown up here, it's his home, no matter how boring it may be "You miss home? Where do you come from?"

* * * *

“... Sorry... I'm probably pretty annoying huh?”

Castiel lets out a soft huff of a laugh before clearing his throat and speaking, his eyes shut in memory.

“I live in California, near the Nevada-California border. My house is on the beach of a beautiful, placid Lake called Fallen Leaf Lake. It's beautiful. Pine trees and pebble beaches, boulders the size of SUVs and the lake itself is pristine. There are never any waves, and you can see down for dozens of feet before the water gets too deep to see any further... I do miss it.”

He sighs softly and then smiles and 'Alex' can hear it in his voice.

“But I only have 3 more weeks here, and then there will be a re-evaluation of my case, and if I've proven I've 'learned my lesson', I get to go home.”

* * * *

Hearing Cas talking so fondly about this place, his home, secure and beautiful and fucking perfect, makes Dean's heart clench with jealousy and utter sadness.

"It does sound perfect", he says lamely, totally at a loss of words after Cas' heartfelt profession of love towards his home "I'm sure you're free to go home in no time."

He doesn't say that he's gonna be missed in Emporia, cause even in his head this sounds too ridiculous to say it aloud.

* * * *

Castiel doesn't know how to respond to that, so he stays quiet for a moment.  
He finds the words he wants to say and speaks up again.

“Have you ever been outside of Kansas?”

He wants to get 'Alex' talking again, maybe dreaming or remembering good times. Cas knows it'll hurt, it always does to remember lost loved ones- whenever Castiel thought about his Mother his heart would hurt. But there would be a soothing comfort over that hurt at the memory of happy times when he was a kid.

* * * *

Dean raises a hand to brush it through his dirty, short hair and shakes his head.

"Not really, no... it never really came up... I mean, I had everything I wanted here, a job, a home, my family..."

He hangs his head but for the first time in months he doesn't instantly cry, thinking about his parents. And suddenly there's this idea in his head that he can't get rid off.

"Maybe that's the solution", he mutters more to himself than to Cas, then speaking up "Maybe I should go... leave Kansas for a while... I could finally get my baby on the road."

He laughs at Cas' confused hum and explains "She's a gorgeous 1967 Chevrolet Impala - I saved her from the compactor and almost completey restored her - I always wanted to take her on the ride of her life, all across the states..."

* * * *

Castiel grins.

“That's a really good idea Alex.”

He tries to imagine a Chevy Impala, but isn't really a car guy, so has a hard time. Castiel is a little embarrassed about this, but speaks up anyway, hoping 'Alex' won't mock him too badly.

“... I'm not really into cars...what's so special about a Chevy Impala?”

* * * *

So Dean spends the next half hour explaining to Cas just what he had been missing out, that his baby was the most beautiful thing he could imagine and that - once he'd finished fixing her - she would render all Kansas speechless.

"You have to google it, man", he finally suggests, still completely scandalized about Cas' lack of knowledge in this department. He keeps mocking him a bit longer until Cas tells him to finally drop it and so they change the subject. Dean tells him about his job, about how bureaucratic everyone had been and people only came there to work, nobody giving a shit about bonding with his colleagues. He asks Cas about his job back at home and why he came to Kansas in the first place.

* * * *

Castiel spends the next hour telling 'Alex' about his home, detailing how most of was built by hand with the help of some of his friends, and how he had a boat waiting to be finished in his garage.

“I like working with my hands, too”, he says, and laughs because it sounds a little perverted. When he explains that a long lost relative died and the funeral was in Kansas, 'Alex' gets a little quiet until Castiel speaks up again and explains that it was his Mother's cousin, and he barely knew her. Yes it was still sad, but Cas was okay.  
At 'Alex's prompting, 'What's your Mom like Cas?', Castiel talks about his Mother. He tells Alex how she had dark dark brown hair and sky blue eyes, fair skin and always smelled like a combination of peppermint and soap. “The peppermint was from the shnapps though.”  
Castiel isn't sure how much detail he should give, but just like the last time when he spoke to 'Alex', he feels at ease and relaxed. So he opens up, and lets everything pour out. How his Mother died 5 years ago from liver failure, and how she did it to herself. How his Dad was the reason because he was there all the time, but gone, off in a fantasy world where his life didn't suck so bad and his kids didn't exist. How Anna left the second she could because she hated it there, and that only made his Mother drink more, but he couldn't blame her because he would have left if he could have too.  
Castiel is quiet for a moment, having revealed so much about his fucked up childhood he wonders if 'Alex' is okay- this probably made him remember his own parents. And all the painful memories associated with them right now.

* * * *

It's hard listening to Cas' problems, mostly because they revolve around his fucked up relationship to his parents and that's something Dean can't relate to. He gets it, he really does, but hearing other people talk bad about their parents makes his heart clench with anger and frustration. He doesn't say anything though cause he can hear that Cas hurts, that he suffers from these bad memories just as much as Dean does from his. It's past 3 am when Dean checks his watch and decides to call it a night.

"Listen, man, I gotta go... thanks for tonight - guess I won't go gentle into that good night tonight..."

And with these words he hangs up, not waiting for Cas' reply, just like the first time and smirking at the mental image of Cas staring at his phone in confusion.

* * * *

Castiel blinks and listen to the dial tone in his ear after the phone hangs up, before sighing and pressing the button on the headset to hang up his end. 'Alex' was a weird one- but Cas liked him. Talking with him was easily the highlight of the week, which was pretty fucked up considering the circumstances of how they end up talking each time. But Castiel was trying his hardest not to care. He was helping people every day, and that did feel good. It didn't make him miss home any less, but it did make the nights and days go by faster.

As the sun rose that morning he went to a diner for some food, looking around at each of the men sitting in their jeans or suits, and wondered if any of them was 'Alex'. Would he ever meet Alex? Castiel wasn't sure, but he was surprised that there was a very large part of him that did want to meet the man whose voice was on the other end of the helpline. Who called Castiel again, when Cas was sure he would never call back.

Cas falls asleep that morning thinking about Alex's voice, his laugh, and reminding himself to google Chevy Impala the next time he has a chance.

-

 

The next week goes by slowly, much to Castiel's dismay. He keeps waiting for a call from 'Alex', hoping to hear how the man is doing, but nothing comes through. More teengagers, more upset house wives and distraught business men and the occasional drug addict or elderly person- but no 'Alex'. It's a Friday night around midnight when Castiel decides to take a break and take a quick walk outside. The moon is high and full and beautiful, and walking under it's light is calming after his last call, which had been talking down a Mother of two from harming herself because her kids were failing in school and it was 'all her fault'. Storm clouds were forming on the horizon, but the weather man had said they wouldn't be here for a few days, so for now the sky was cloudless, and Castiel found that the night sky here was pretty- but not as bright or full of stars as it was from his porch back on Fallen Leaf Lake.

The air was balmy and warm, so he goes back inside after a short walk. Back into the rare air conditioning he enjoyed as a perk that came with the community service.

* * * *

Dean's week starts off a lot better than the past few weeks had and he almost feels anxious of being too optimistic. He gets up early, showers and dresses carefully, before leaving the house for the first time in about 2 weeks. He goes to all the addresses Cas had told him about and leaves the workshop managers there his application papers. He's more than surprised when on Thursday morning there's a letter in his mail, telling him that he got a part-time job at the garage. In his euphoria, all Dean wants to do is call everyone and tell them about this but he quickly realizes that he can't. He didn't tell Sam or anyone else about losing his job. He doesn't need more pity or even charity... It actually takes him until much later to think of someone he can call, someone who knows about his situation better than anyone else at the moment - someone who he can share this good news with.

"Cas", he smiles once the other man had picked up the phone and given him the usual welcome speech "I got a job."

* * * *

Castiel sits up straight in his chair and almost drops the coffee he's holding at hearing 'Alex's voice.  
“You did? That's so great!”  
Realizing he's probably being a little too enthusiastic, he dials it back down a notch when he speaks again.  
“Which job Alex?”

* * * *

Dean grins at the obvious excitement in Cas' voice.

"One of the garages you told me about - I gave them my papers on Monday and... this morning I open my mailbox and there's the fucking positive response!"

He can't hold back his relief and happiness about this small but important achievement and hearing that Cas is just as happy about this as he is, makes it even better.

* * * *

“That’s just so… wow how awesome. I’m really happy for you Alex.”  
And he is. There was a tightness in his chest, a worry, that he hadn’t even realized he’d been carrying until hearing ‘Alex’s voice made it let go. Castiel found he was more at ease than he had been all week talking to ‘Alex’ now, and part of him was curious about that, wondering why, while the rest of him dismissed it as nothing.  
“When do you start?”  
* * * *  
“Thanks”, Dean replies, feeling a warmth spreading in his chest at Cas’ encouraging words “I’ll start on the 15th, that’s… 3 weeks from now - and I think I can handle the costs until then.”  
There’s a short pause and suddenly Dean feels awkward and stupid for calling Cas. No matter how much Dean enjoyed those late night calls, this was Cas’ job and all of the sudden Dean felt like he took too much of his time.  
“I’m sorry to keep you from work”, he says, a bit more calm and quiet now “I just didn’t… nobody knows that I lost my job and I just…”  
‘… needed someone to talk to and you were the only person I could think of’  
“… needed to get this off my chest…”

* * * *

Castiel lets out a sharp burst of laughter.

“Please, Alex, talking with you is the highlight of my week.”

... Crap. That just sounded weird. Really weird, like, crazy weird. Cas bites his lower lip and grimaces before speaking again quickly.

“I mean... I can be myself talking to you, I don't have to read from a script or be careful so I don't offend you... You're refreshing too.”  
And now 'Alex' was probably never going to call again. Castiel felt so strange in that moment, a spark of panic rising in his chest. What was going on? Why did he care so much if this guy called him?

* * * *

There's silence on the other end of the line for a few seconds and Cas might even start to wonder if 'Alex' had hung up on him again. Then there's an incredulous snort and he hears 'Alex' chuckling.

"Dude, you really must hate your job if this is your highlight."

Dean pretends to be nonchalant about this but Cas' words actually kind of made him think. Think about how it had come to this, to him calling a suicide hotline every other night, talking to some strange guy with an even stranger name about anything and everything in his life, the bad but also the good things.

"I know what you mean, though", he then says, his voice more serious again "I'm not really the kind of guy who... uhm... talks much, you know... about feelings and stuff..." He clears his throat, feeling his cheeks blushing and wondering why the fuck he's even saying this and why it makes him so damn antsy. "I just... dammit, I feel like I can trust you with this kind of shit..."

* * * *

Cas' voice is deeper than before, mixed with a sweetness like honey.  
“... That makes me happy Alex.”  
The words are simple enough but the meaning behind them is significant. 'Alex' makes Castiel happy, even if it's just for a moment, even if it's just over the phone with his words. Castiel takes a deep breath and lets it out as quietly as he can, wondering how he got this attached to someone he's never even met in person. He dreamt about meeting 'Alex' in person the night before last night in fact, a montage of diner food that would lead into working on 'Alex's impala and finally 'Alex' driving Castiel back home, across the country, the two of them together laughing in the front seat. Castiel didn't even understand where this was all coming from, he hadn't had dreams like that in years, not since he was a teenager. Feeling like this about someone who he'd never met, someone with serious emotional problems and suicidal thoughts, that was dangerous.  
Cas doesn't know whether he wanted to hang up and never answer the phone again, or beg 'Alex' for his phone number so he could check on 'Alex' whenever he wants.

* * * *

Dean takes a deep breath, turning his head to look out of the window, trying to find something, anything, to focus on, to get this weird tingling feeling out of his system. There's this awkward pause and Dean doesn't like it. It makes him feel vulnerable and weak and like he's been revealing too much.

"Well... I just... I wanted to say 'thanks' for... you know... getting me to apply in the first place..."

Biting his lip he thinks of a way to keep talking cause he really doesn't want to hang up already. But the weird sensation, that 'thing' making his heart constrict in his chest just won't stop and he finds himself panting out a rushed "Uhm... night, Cas..." and hanging up.

* * * *

 

“Wait-”

But it's too late, the phone line is dead, and the dial tone in Castiel's ear mocks him so cruelly. His heart pounds in his ear, throbbing out a taunt of 'you're dumb' over and over.  
He'd over stepped his bounds with that last thing he said to 'Alex', and now Castiel was pretty sure the man wouldn't be calling back. Friends don't say things like that, and he and 'Alex' weren't even really friends, were they?  
No, 'Alex' just called because he needed someone to talk to, and Cas was convenient. Castiel finishes out his shift in a glum mood, and goes home to his empty, crappy apartment.

Outside the winds shift, and the storm moves closer.

* * * *

Once again Dean feels guilty. Guilty for taking advantage of Cas, for making him listen to his stupid problems, his hate for the world. But most of all he feels guilty for letting himself grow to attached to this other man, that faceless guy serving his Community Service at a helpline, when all he really wants is to return to his beautiful, perfect home and leave this depressing shit behind him.

He doesn't call him again, even though without talking to the other man for days now, his depression starts getting worse. He's pathetic and he knows it. Needing someone to tell him he's worth something, someone lying to him that his life actually has meaning and that he would be missed. He stops pretending that this new job would change anything, would make things better. The nightmares about the accident return and Dean wakes up crying every time. Outside the storm is roaring, rain pelting against his bedroom window, just like it had been in his dream. The image of Mary's tormented face flashes in his mind and he hides his face in his hands, sobbing quietly.

He can't bear not talking to Cas anymore. After almost a week of silence between them, Dean picks up the phone to call the helpline, his hands shaky and his voice hoarse from crying. But the other line kept quiet. There was no dial tone, nothing... only static and silence. Dean tosses his phone in some corner, wrapping his arms around his legs, trying to stop them from shaking.

He dreams about the accident every night now, the nightmares getting more bloody and messy than ever before. He wakes up screaming, tears on his face.

He stops eating and starts cutting himself again. Long, thin lines from his chest down over his stomach and as he watches the blood running down his torso he waits to feel again.

He's trying to get through to Cas every hour now. The phone line keeps dead and his cell doesn't get a signal either. It's been a whole week since he'd last talked to Cas and everything he'd said replays over and over in Dean's head, like a mantra, a spell to protect him from the darkness inside himself. And then, one night, it stops working. The alcohol helps killing most of his fears but he still knows that he'll never speak to Cas again. Hell, Cas might just have forgotten about him anyway.

The razor blade is light in his calloused hand as he raises it to his face, wincing as he draws it over his cheek and down his neck. It burns, the blood pouring out of it thin and bright red and for a moment Dean's almost fascinated by how pure and clean it looks. He raises the blade again, making another cut at his shoulder, his lip, his upper arm. He knows he needs to cut vertically, knows that this would be most effective. He hesitates for a moment, looking around the living room with reddened eyes, filled with tears. He thinks about Sam and Jess and Bobby. He's ashamed of doing this to them but there's no other way. He's on the verge of going mad, of completely losing it... there's only one way out, he knows it. He stumbles over to the couch, sinking down on it and grabbing a piece of paper and a pen. 'I'm sorry, Sammy. I fucked up. None of this is your fault. Take care of my baby. I love you.' The paper is wet with his tears, the writing blurring at some spots. Dean leans back, taking a deep breath and plunging the blade deep in his wrist, pulling it up until he hits the crook of his arm. It hurts but it's not as bad as he thought. He drops the blade, looking down on his work for a moment, before grabbing his cell. He dials the number without looking at the blood-smeared screen, not even expecting anything anymore. All he thinks is that he wants to hear Cas' voice, only once more...

The signal is loud and clear in his ears and it takes Dean a few seconds to realize that he got through. Cas' voice is on the other end of the line and Dean feels his throat getting dry.

"Cas"

* * * *

Castiel had spent the week of the storm struggling. He couldn't talk to anyone on the phones as the lines were down, and they were having trouble getting anyone out to fix them. He kept imagining people wanting to call, now being able to get through, and thinking no one was there for them- and they'd go through with it. Cas had day dreams, no, day-mares, about these people. Especially 'Alex'. 'Alex' reigned like the King over his thoughts, and Castiel found himself feeling more and more anxious the more time passed between their last conversation.

So when the phone guys finally made it out to the office, Cas was there to help them fix the line, standing in the rain until it was done. Running inside he sat by the phone for hours, drying slowly in the dark office- alone. No one else dared come out during the storm, but Castiel was there and the supervisor said that he was more than welcome to stay as long as he wanted.

3 hours passed with not one phone call, but the minute that the phone rang Castiel's heart leapt into his throat, making it hard to speak when he picked up the line.

“Hello, this is the Emporia Helpline, my name is Cas, how can I help you?”

There's a soft pause, then a voice he had been hoping to hear for a week crackled over the line.

“Cas.”

Castiel's heart almost breaks at the sound, relief pouring in for a moment, but then being flooded out by worry and fear. 'Alex' did not sound okay. Not at all.

“...Alex...are you okay?”

* * * *

Hot tears stream over his face as he hears the familiar voice, a small smile spreading on his blood-smeared lips.

"Cas-", he repeats, clearing his throat, trying to speak when at the same time all he wants is lying down and listen to Cas speaking until everything's over "Cas, I... I did something stupid..." His voice breaks as he starts sobbing uncontrollably.

* * * *

Castiel's breath hitches as he hears 'Alex' start crying again, something he hadn't heard in a few phone calls, and a sound he had never wanted to hear again. His voice is tempered, careful, when he speaks again.

“Alex... What did you do?”  
He shakes as he holds onto the phone, leaning forward and covering his other ear to block out the sound of the storm outside.

* * * *

Dean lowers his head, staring down at the piece of paper, the 'letter' for Sam, his vision blurring.

"Dean", he whispers, feeling blood run over his cheek, dripping down on his trembling chest "... my name's Dean..."

He hears Cas' voice on the other end of the line but can't make out what he says, all he hears is the rush of wind in the trees outside and his own heart, pumping more and more blood through his venes and out of his body...

"There's... so much blood, Cas... I don't know... don't know what to do..."

Cas is shouting now and Dean finally realizes he's asking for his address. He's scared, scared of what he did and what will happen to him and how everyone will judge him, how Cas will judge him... he gasps and closes a hand over his heart, trying to calm down, trying to think clear. He thinks he tells Cas where he lives but then everything fades to black and Dean's just grateful for being able to hear Cas' voice one last time.

* * * *

“Dean? Dean!”

There’s no sound on the other end, except for the occasional bit of static- and Cas can’t wait anymore. He’s never run faster than when he races out of the building, not even bothering to shut the door behind him. He’s to his car and starting it less than a minute after Dean stopped talking on the phone, and then he’s speeding down the flooded streets, hydroplaning from one side to the other as he tries to get to Dean’s side as fast as he can.

Every second is a second too long, a second that he’s not at Dean’s side, helping him, saving him.

‘you’re a breath of fresh air Cas.’

FUCK.

‘you’re supposed to listen to my problems.’

FUCK FUCK.

‘I feel I can trust you…’

FUCK FUCK FUCK!

Castiel is slamming his hand on the steering wheel as he flies through the streets, his heart pounding in his head and tears of dread forming in his eyes. His mind is going faster than his car, imagining all the things he’ll find when he gets there. Dean, hanging from the ceiling. Dean, overdosed with a needle in his arm. Dean, in a bathtub with a toaster sunk to the bottom of the water.  
“No. NONONONONONONO…”

He yanks the wheel hard to the right as he gets to Dean’s street, side swiping a car on the way down the block but not stopping- he had to get there.

5 minutes after Dean stopped talking, Castiel crashes his car into some trashcans, bottles and bags exploding out into the rainy night. He stumbles out of the passenger seat, the driver side door sticking, “FUCK!”, and scrambles to his feet in the mud.

Which apartment, which one?! He figures it out seconds later and slams his fists against it, screaming at the top of his lungs.

“DEAN!!! OPEN THE DOOR!!! DEAN! DEAN!!!”

There’s no answer and his stomach threatens to empty itself as another image pops up, Dean with a shotgun in his lifeless hand. Castiel makes a strangled sound, a cry, and kicks open the door.

* * * *

His eyes are heavy, vision clouded with tears and blood and all he can hear is the steady rush of wind and the rain and his mother screaming. He feels wet hands on his skin, someone pulling him up into his arms, holding him, whispering his name. ‘Cas’, he thinks and his lips open but he can’t say a word, his throat dry as dust. There’s a flash of blue eyes but that has to be his imagination. There’s nobody here… he’s all alone…

* * * *

Castiel sobs as he holds Dean in his arms- the man is covered in blood, his skin pale and scarily blue. The sound of an ambulance interrupts his sobbing, the hand that dialed 911 still clutching the phone like it's a lifeline, the operator on the other end long ago having stopped trying to talk to Castiel through the man's crying.  
When the EMT's try to take the man from Castiel's arms he cries out, but they tell him in a rushed voice that he can come with them but they have to leave now if they want to save Dean. Cas climbs into the back of the ambulance and sits where they tell him, helping as best he can while the two professionals race to save Dean's life. Cas can't think straight anymore, his mind a mess of terrified 'what-ifs'.

“Please...Dean...stay with me...”

He takes the hand they're not working on, the arm that Dean didn't slice to ribbons, and squeezes it gently.


	2. Chapter 2

The only sounds when Dean wakes up 16 hours later is the steady beep from the machines attached to him, shuffling feet outside of his room, chatter from the nurses and Doctors. And the sound of quiet slumber, gentle breathing coming from someplace near him.

Castiel is lying with his arms crossed on the bed, his head lying on his forearms, sitting in a straight back wooden chair beside Dean's bed. His dark hair is messy, covering his forehead, and his face is calm in his sleep. Every now and then dark brows furrow as he dreams, chapped lips puffing out with soft breaths of worry. Then Cas' face smoothes out again. The one thing that doesn't change as he's dreaming is his hand, clasped so tightly over Dean's.

* * * *

His throat is still sore and his whole body feels like it's on fire. He shifts uncomfortably, tilting his head carefully to look down his body. He's wearing a simple white hospital gown and there's bandages all over his left arm. It takes him a moment to realize what all of this means, to remember what he'd done. Only then he notices the sleeping man holding his hand like his life depended on it. Dean's not sure what to do but he doesn't think he can speak so he slightly squeezes the other man's hand, hoping to gently wake him up.

* * * *

Castiel wakes with a start, as if his body had been tuned toward Dean's, waiting for him to wake up. The first thing Dean sees is bright blue eyes, shockingly blue, almost unreal. Those eyes shift up to look into Dean's, and the face pales just slightly before the man sits up.

“Dean...?”

Cas chokes out the name, questioning both if he was right, and that really was 'Alex's real name, and if the man was okay, all in one small fragmented sentence. He squeezes Dean's hand back as he sits up all the way, revealing a lean but well muscled frame, dressed in a dirty and worn shirt with a faded logo on it for a snow board shop in Nevada, worn in jeans, brown boots and a black and gray plaid shirt with rolled up sleeves. He looked uncomfortable, but Castiel's eyes didn't leave Dean's face, his full lips still open from speaking Dean's name- waiting for a response.

* * * *

He tries to speak again but all that leaves his chapped lips is a broken, coughing sound. So he nods his head in reply, forcing his lips to form a crooked smile. 'Water', he thinks, his eyes searching the room for something to drink, anything to moisten his bonedry throat. Luckily - strangely - the other man understands him even without words and hurries over to the bathroom, returning with a full glass of water, carefully holding it on his lips and letting Dean drink. He coughs again, the liquid running down his throat a weird but welcome feeling, before he opens his mouth and finally speaks.

"What... where am I?", he whispers, his voice hoarse and only a shadow of its usual sound. He looks up into the other man's eyes, blue meeting green and something clicks "You're... Cas..."

* * * *

Cas can't do anything but nod, his lower lip quivering at the bruising and bandages on Dean's face. The man had passed out, falling over and hitting his head on a table, so on top of all the cuts he'd inflicted on himself- Castiel had sobbed for a few hours after being allowed back into the room and seeing all the bandages for the first time- now he had a huge purple and blue bruise on his forehead.  
Castiel leans to the left of Dean to put the water down, then stands back up, his hands twitching. He doesn't know what to say, or do, this is just so surreal. He never thought he'd meet Alex-..no..Dean, in person. And now here he was, having saved the man's life.

His lips tighten over his teeth, his brow furrowed, and he leans down to give Dean a hug, wanting him to know everything was okay and he was safe.

* * * *

The sudden movement, the tender gesture of the other man - of Cas - was unexpected and Dean finds himself staring at the ceiling with wide eyes, feeling Cas' trembling body carefully pressed against his own, his pale hands on his shoulders and his soft, dark hair tickling the skin of his cheek. He wants to say something, thanking him, apologizing but none of the words in his head make sense.

"Cas...", he whispers, slowly raising his unscathed arm to curl it around Cas' neck "Cas... you... you saved my life... again..."

* * * *

 

The trembling pauses as a dry sob escapes Castiel and he has to pull away, his eyes threatening to water up again. He looks away from Dean as he moves back slowly, his hands moving to the railings that are up on either side of the bed. As his face moves away Dean can see tears in Castiel's eyes, dried tracks marking his soft skin and stubbley jawline. The man's face is beautiful up close, even etched in pain like it is now.

* * * *

And suddenly it's all there. The secrets he had shared with this man, the things Cas had revealed about his family, his life, the strange, warm feeling Dean had felt whenever he'd heard Cas saying his welcoming phrase and the times he had made Dean laugh, even though he'd been lonely and depressed and sick of life before he'd called. Dean wouldn't be able to explain what he did next, his mind blank and full of memories of Cas at the same time. His hand, still curled around the back of Cas' neck, pulls the other man back in, closer, closer, until their faces are merely inches apart. "Cas", he whispers and their breaths mingle, his eyes scooting to Cas' lips and back up. And then he's leaning forward with the utmost effort, groaning in pain, until his lips brush Cas' and he closes his eyes and - for the first time in months - just feels.

* * * *

Castiel's breath stops- motionless. He can't even inhale as he watches Dean's flawlessly green eyes staring into his, everything moving in slow motion as the beautiful creature lying in the hospital bed, broken and scarred, opens himself up to him. Cas swears he can feel something, deep inside, tugging and wriggling it's way into his heart when Dean's hand tightens around his neck, and his name is said so fucking softly it actually hurts. Then their lips meet, dry skin against bruised and cracked, and Castiel's eyes widen as much as they physically can for a split second, shock racing through his mind. They slowly shut as he gives in, and his heart and body take over, both signaling that this is okay, and right, and he can let go- he can just be. Castiel's hands move swiftly up to gently clasp Dean's upper arms, and he finds he can't think over how loud the roar of the word 'DEAN' is in his brain.

* * * *

He doesn't care if this is 'right' or 'appropriate' in this moment. He's alive, he's breathing and his heart is beating, pumping blood through not out of his body - and Cas' lips on his is the most amazing thing he'd ever felt. His lids flutter open again, looking at the other man so close to himself that he's able to count his eyelashes. Dean breathes out, tilting his head and opening his lips only slightly. The kiss doesn't last long but it's so fucking perfect that Dean wishes it did. Cause when he lets his head fall back on the pillow, staring up into Cas' reddened face, he feels scared and unsure, once again vulnerable and weak.

* * * *

Castiel’s eyes slowly open, the blue orbs refocusing on Dean’s scared face. There’s confusion on Cas’ face, but also openness, curiousity, and a tinge of lust. His lips hang open, plush and pink now.  
“….Dean..?”  
He frowns softly while licking his lips, tasting Dean’s own- metallic and warm. Castiel wasn’t sure what had just happened, but he liked it. He so rarely found the need for physical relationships, and was almost always disappointed by them. So he avoided them when he could, having one night stands here and there with a man or a woman, but never settling down with anyone. He just couldn’t connect with anyone, not emotionally, enough to care about them. Not the way he had with his Mother and sister. Or with Dean.  
Castiel tilts his head slightly and brings a hand up to touch the side of Dean’s face, the look on his face concern, his eyes sad.

“What did you do to yourself….”

* * * *

Returning Cas’ confused gaze, Dean feels his cheeks burn with embarrassment. What the hell just happened? What was he thinking, how could he forget his decency so easily? The answer was simple: he had wanted to kiss Cas. He nearly died after carving up his own body, shredding his skin and falling asleep with the taste of blood on his tongue. And now it was gone. Dean was awake, he was alive and there was a faint taste of salty tears and something he couldn’t define that was all Castiel on his lips instead. He turns his head slightly, avoiding to look into those piercing blue eyes, focusing on the grey PVC floor.

“I… lost control”, he finally says, not sure if he’s talking about the kiss or the failed attempt of killing himself…

* * * *

Castiel’s thumb brushes over Dean’s cheek slowly, gently as he stares at the man before him. Lost control? What could have happened between the last time they talked and now to make Dean do THIS? There’s something burning in his chest and he realizes he’s been holding his breath. Cas inhales, his breath shuddering, and he turns away to run his hands over his face, the deep breath hissing out slowly.  
He didn’t sign up for this. This wasn’t part of the community service, and yet he hadn’t hesitated to rush to Dean’s side the minute he thought the man was in danger. The very thought of Dean dying had made panic rise up in him like nothing he’d ever felt before- except when he found his Mother, the night she died.  
Castiel stands still with his back to Dean for a minute, trying to wrap his mind around how quickly he had come to care for him, and how deeply. He turns around and frowns again gently, before sitting down beside Dean with a soft sigh.

“…Why?”

He stares at Dean, reaching out with one hand to take the man’s un-injured hand in his, squeezing it to reassure him. Cas had come this far- he wasn’t going to just walk out now.

* * * *

The concern in Cas’ eyes is so naked, so obvious that it almost scared Dean. He lowers his head and wonders when this happened. When he himself had started to trust a stranger, when this faceless voice had become the first person he thought of when he was sure of dying. Even before Sammy, Jess, Bobby, his family. He feels guilty all of the sudden, guilty and so scared. Did Sammy know? Did they find his letter and contacted him? He shudders at the thought, jerking slightly when he feels Cas’ hand touching his. Looking back up he takes a deep breath, opening his lips without even knowing what to say.

“I… I was alone… the storm… the nightmares got worse and I…”

He falls silent again, searching for the right words, trying somehow to express what he’s thinking, what he’s feeling.

“I couldn’t reach you…”

* * * *

“I’m sorry Dean…”

He gives Dean a soft closed lipped smile, an apologetic one, and absentmindedly starts brushing his thumb over the back of Dean’s hand.

“The lines have been down for three days… I’ve been trying to get them back up since they went down, but the phone technicians weren’t able to get back out until today…”

He doesn’t really know why he’s apologizing, as it isn’t his fault the phones went down, but he does feel guilty for not being available to Dean. Especially knowing now how badly Dean needed him there. When did they form this bond? And did Cas need Dean as badly?

He finds that thought a little terrifying, and sits up a little straighter, looking down at their hands.

* * * *

“It’s not your fault”, Dean says quickly cause it isn’t. Hell, if it weren’t for Cas he’d killed himself weeks ago… if it hadn’t been for Cas, he would be dead now. “You were the only one… who didn’t fuck up…” He gives him a crooked half-smile which makes him wince as his lips stings so badly. He squeezes Cas’ hand once more, before letting go of it - feeling slightly uncomfortable - and using it to carefully lift himself up against the head section. Lying down makes him feel exposed and the thought terrifies him. “Is Sam… does my brother know?”, he finally asks.

* * * *

“….I don’t know. I didn’t have any numbers to call… so I told them that you were my cousin, and I had heard you yell in your apartment. That was why I kicked down the door, or at least, that’s what I told them.”

He winces, hating that he had to lie to cover his breaking down the door, but he’d wanted to be allowed to see Dean, and they wouldn’t have let him otherwise. Castiel pulls his hand back and places it in his lap, leaning back as far as the chair will let him.

“… Your apartment is a mess though… There’s… there’s a lot of blood Dean.”

Castiel’s blue eyes flicker up to look into Dean’s, his own showing worry, sadness, fear. He wasn’t sure where Dean was now, and didn’t want to leave his side, afraid of what would happen if he was out of reach again. Would Dean try again? Would he succeed this time?

* * * *

There’s a lump in Dean’s throat as he catches Cas’ gaze, not quite sure what to make of it. There’s worry there, anxiousness and a shadow of doubt and Dean feels like he’s getting X-rayed… he’s embarrassed that somebody saw him like this, half naked, blood and sweat all over his carved body. He’s so ashamed of himself that it makes him nauseous and he has to turn away, not able to bear Cas watching him like this.

“I’m so sorry”, he says after a while “I shouldn’t’ve… you shouldn’t have to see me like this…”

* * * *

Castiel’s brow furrows and he reaches out to touch Dean, feeling sad at how pained he looks. He stops himself though, and looks away, back down at his lap again. This is awkward and sad, and Cas is beginning to wonder if he should leave, despite his worries about Dean’s mental state.

“… It’s okay… I… You know, it’s funny actually. I had hoped we’d meet, but certainly not like this.”

Something dawns on him and he frowns, a flash of disappointment and anger running over his face.

“Why did you lie to me about your name?”

* * * *

It’s good that he’s not looking at Cas the moment the other man starts to speak cause the disappointment in his voice is about to break Dean’s heart.

“I don’t know”, Dean says after a few heartbeats of silence cause it’s the truth. He didn’t think about his fake name much with Cas, there were other things, more important things to talk about. “I was scared… I told you everything about my life and… I guess not telling you my real name was some sort of emotional backup…”

* * * *

“….My full name is Castiel…”

He smiles slightly, a quirk of his lips, as the anger fades. He could understand where Dean was coming from, even if he was dissapointed that Dean hadn’t trusted him fully before- maybe now he would.

“Just for full disclosure.”

Cas isn’t sure what to say now, the tension in the room felt almost palpable, like you could taste it. It was enough to make him nervous, and he hated being nervous or unsure of anything. Dean made him nervous too, and unsure… or everything.  
Everything he was feeling, and wanting to do in the moment was off, not wrong, just not normal for him. He wanted to hold the broken man in the hospital bed, brush his hands through his hair and tell him everything was going to be okay.  
These feelings were so strong that as Dean shifted in the bed, obviously uncomfortable, Castiel found himself wanting to kiss him again, to make everything better. If only that was all it took.

* * * *

When Cas - Castiel - talks again, Dean turns his head to look at him, relief and surprise both clearly visible on his bruised features.

“Castiel”, he repeats, still just looking at the other man with wonder. He licks his lips and manages a small, genuine smile. Then he’s holding out his hand, waiting for Cas to take it with obvious confusion before squeezing it gently and then shaking it. “I’m Dean. Dean Winchester. And I owe you my life.”

They stare at each other for a moment, before Dean realizes how ridiculous this was and shakes his head in embarrassment.

“I’m sorry… must be the meds”, he chuckles, smiling up a little awkwardly at Castiel.

* * * *

Before he can do anything Dean is repeating his name, his real name, and he’s blushing. It’s strange to hear his full name in that voice, a voice that had been disembodied for weeks until this rainy, bloody night.  
Even stranger is when Dean shakes his hand, and Castiel is genuinely taken aback, but tries his hardest not to show it. Weren’t they a little past hand shakes by this point? Cas wasn’t sure if he was ever going to get Dean’s blood out from under his fingernails from when he was trying to stop the flow of thick red life giving liquid from the man’s arm earlier in the night.  
But if that was how Dean wanted it, Cas would respect it. He shakes Dean’s hand back firmly and retracts it once it’s let go, placing it back in his own lap, on his leg.  
“That’s okay… they have you on a lot of morphine I think…. You should probably get some rest actually.”  
Castiel stands up to go and hesitates, looking down at Dean with a worried look.

* * * *

There’s the awkward pause again and Dean’s not sure if what he did just confused Castiel or simply annoyed him. But the next moment the blue eyed man is standing up, obviously intending to leave and Dean feels uncertainty and fear boiling up inside of him again. He wants to reach out and take Castiel’s hand, wants to pull him back, to his side, on top of him, hold him, make him stay - but he doesn’t.

“-yeah… yeah, I think that’s best”, he lies cause sleeping is really the last thing he wants to do right now “Uhm, could you… could you send in the doctor or a nurse?”

He shifts a bit uncomfortably and returns Castiel’s gaze with a small shrug “I don’t want… Sammy shouldn’t know about this…”

* * * *

“…I’m not going to tell anyone Dean.”

He walks to the door and nods to a nurse, who holds up her hand to signal she’ll be just a moment. Cas turns back around and bites his lower lip, holding it in his mouth while he thinks for a second, before looking back up at Dean and speaking again, his voice calm.

“I’ll be just out here, if you need…”, ‘me’ he thinks, but he says,  
“…anything.”  
The nurse walks in and over to Dean, smiling a polite ‘I know you just tried to commit suicide so we’re going to be extra nice to you, okay?’ smile, and Cas takes that as his chance to walk out.  
Just outside the door he leans against the wall, lets his head fall back until he’s looking at the ceiling, and cries.

This was too much. He was feeling too much, too soon, and Cas wasn’t sure if he could handle it. The last time he felt this much was for his Mother, and she had killed herself by drowning herself in alcohol. And then Anna, who had left. Cas sinks to the floor and holds his head in his hands, and as the silent tears slip from the corners of his shut eyes he tries his hardest not to think about Dean lying still in the pool of his own blood.

* * * *

The nurse listens to Dean’s request and nods sympathetically. She can’t promise anything but she assures him to ask the doctor if this was acceptable.

“Either way, you really should get help, Mr Winchester”, she finally says in a quiet, soothing voice and Dean averts his eyes, looking down on hi s bandaged arm. She keeps talking a bit longer, about how the world is not always cruel and bad and that everything gets better, the usual crap. He wishes Cas, the hotline Cas was back in here, telling him what an idiot he’s been, scolding him for making Cas drive out in the storm to save him and he has to smile at the thought of that. He wishes he spared the man this view, this responsibility… when he had woken up and learned that Cas was his savior, his heart had leapt with relief and something he couldn’t yet define. Thinking of it now, Dean realized that he didn’t really give him much of a choice. He was already half-dead when he called Cas and what was the man supposed to do? He war working for a help line, for Christ’s sake - of course he would rush to Dean’s side… Suddenly Dean felt so stupid for reading more into this than there probably was. He could see that Cas likes him - what he could not possibly see or feel or know was, why he did. What part of him was likable, worth of his attention, his friendship even? Dean told himself that Cas didn’t pull back or push Dean away, when he had kissed him but then again he might just didn’t want to upset him even more. He leans back, staring at the white blank ceiling for minutes. The nurse had left the room without him noticing and he’s pretty sure she gave him something cause his vision blurrs until there’s only black and his head falls to the side, as he slips into a dreamless sleep.

* * * *

When Dean wakes up he’s in a different room. The room is filled with light even with the shades drawn over the large windows. The walls are a soft butter yellow and there’s no annoying overhead lights, just wall sconces that are currently off, but Dean could tell they would let off a softer light than the flourescent bulbs that were in the last room he was in.  
He was in the room all by himself, Cas no where to be seen. Before he could even call out for someone a Doctor was bustling into the room, a clipboard in his hands that he was reading. He looks up and does a double take before smiling softly.

“You’re awake. That’s good. Hi Dean, my name is Dr. Oliver.”  
The Doctor explains that Dean lost an incredible amount of blood, the term Class IV Hemorrhage comes up more than once. He credits Castiel with saving Dean’s life, and states, very seriously, ‘Another five minutes and you would be dead Dean.’  
He goes on to tell Dean that he’s been moved into the psychiatric ward of the hospital so he can rest and heal before they release him. There is a mandatory 48 hour hold on someone who tries to commit suicide, but because of how badly Dean injured himself the Doctor says he’s going to recommend they keep him for a week.  
At the end of the week they’ll do an evaluation and see if Dean is ready to leave, or if they think he should stay for awhile longer. During his stay the Doctor wants him to see a counselor, and rest and get lots of fluids to replenish those he lost. They gave him a few transfusions, but he would probably still be weak for at least a week, if not two.

The Doctor leaves, and Dean can see from a clock on the wall in the hallway as the door closes behind him that it’s around 2 in the afternoon.

* * * *

He sighs in defeat as soon as Dr. Oliver left the room, sinking back into his pillows and closing his eyes. This was totally not what he had signed up for… he hasn’t had the time to think about what he did and how Cas saving him changed anything so now there are a million different thoughts on his mind and they drive him crazy. He wanted to kill himself. He’d been determined to leave this world that night. But then he heard Cas’ voice and without being able to describe why, it had changed everything. Suddenly there had been a will to live, a reason to stay awake, to tell Cas his address, to let him save Dean. This had all happened so fast and Dean had been almost unconcious already but he remembers one thing clearly: hearing Cas’ voice had felt like somebody had turned on the light in the pitch black darkness that was Dean’s life. But now he was here, in the nuthouse, guarded and watched by a dozen doctors and nurses, all afraid of Dean trying to kill himself again. ‘Another five minutes and you would be dead Dean.’ The doctors words echo in his head and Dean wonders if it hadn’t been better for everyone, if he simply hadn’t called Cas. What if he’d just lied down and let it happen, like he had planned it? Cas never would’ve known about this. Even if he read the Emporia newspaper from time to time he wouldn’t notice the small side note about ‘24-year old local Dean W.’ cause Cas wouldn’t even have known his real name. Maybe he would think about ‘Alex’ some time, wondering what had happened to him, if he’d gotten better and made it out of rock bottom. Or if he simply didn’t feel like calling anymore. And he would’ve left, he would’ve gone back home to his beautiful house and his pristine lake and his perfect life. And he would’ve forgotten Dean. His chest constricts at that thought and he suddenly realizes that all he can think about is Cas. Not Sam. Not Jess or Bobby. All he can think about is how he could’ve spared Cas the inconveniences… and now that everyone is convinced that Dean’s crazy, this is exactly what Cas must think about him, too. Another insane person, trying to get attention by hurting himself. Lonely, miserable, pathetic. He turns his head, trying to cast a glance outside the window through the blinds and the thick veil of tears in his eyes.

* * * *

Castiel had left Dean the night before at sunrise, after sitting at his bedside for hours, watching him sleep. He had brushed his fingers across Dean's cheek, marveling in a kind of shocked awe and disgust at how that beautiful face was now marred by scars and bruises. The lump in his throat didn't leave until hours later, when he was home alone, falling asleep.  
Before he could go home, to sleep before his shift at the helpline that night though, Cas knew there was one more thing he had to do. So after he left Dean's bedside, ever so reluctantly, he caught a cab from the hospital back to Dean's apartment, and set about making things look like none of this ever happened.  
5 hours and a couple hundred dollars later, the door was replaced, the carpet scrubbed as clean as he could get it, the suicide note folded and tucked into his back pocket. The only evidence of Dean's attempt to erase his existance from this world was a stain that would never come out on the couch cushions and carpet, and Cas just flipped the cushions over, and rearranged the furniture to cleverly hide the stain.  
No one would ever know.  
No one but Cas.  
~  
Waking up in the dark like he had for the past 3 weeks, Castiel showers and dresses, sluggish and tired. He walks to the helpline, not wanting to drive, and needing the fresh air and time to think. He had promised Dean that he wouldn't tell anyone about this, but was that the right thing to do? Did his brother deserve to know just how bad it was for Dean? Just how much he was hurting, and how guilty he felt about their parents' death?  
Cas lets his mind worry on that as he walks, and by the time he makes it to the office building where the helpline is housed 20 minutes later, he has come to the conclusion of No. No, he wouldn't betray Dean's trust in this, and no Sam didn't need to know. It would just make Dean feel more guilty, like more of a burden, and Castiel could carry this on his own.  
He could try at the very least.  
He hadn't talked to Dean in almost 24 hours by this point, and there was a sick feeling in his chest, like loneliness for someone dear to you, like how Cas felt when he thought about Anna.  
Every call that comes through he hopes is Dean, and every call that comes through isn't Dean.  
The night is long, and the only company he has is the flicker of a computer screen, his silent co-workers, and his thoughts about the man lying so far away in a stark white hospital bed.

* * * *

He tries to keep his promise to Cas, tries to rest, to get some sleep and forget about what had happened. It's not that easy of course and Dean finds himself brooding all night, wondering where Cas is, what he's doing. Worrying that Sam might - even without any reason - come by his apartment, ring the bell and when nobody opens use his spare key, only to see a mess of garbage and chaos and blood and a farewell letter. He gets his medication four times a day from a pretty brunette, the type of woman he used to favor, used to hit on - now of course he's wearing a pathetic hospital gown, his once tanned face seems rather pale and there are dark circles around his eyes and the nurse only smiles at him, makes sure he takes his meds and leaves. Doctor Oliver checks on him in the morning and in the evening, making Dean feel even more like a prisoner. He tries to stay awake as long as possible, hoping that somehow sometime Cas will show up again. He doesn't come. But Dean can't give up. He finally falls asleep around 3 in the morning, thinking about Cas in those last few vivid seconds, blaming himself for scaring him off with a kiss he himself still doesn't completely understand...

* * * *

 

It's been six days now, and every day Castiel goes to the helpline, and works for 8 hours. When his shift is over he grabs some food, and as the sun is rising in East and the birds slowly start singing, he goes to sit by Dean's side for a few hours until he has to go home to sleep, before doing it all again the very next day.  
It's been six days now that he's done this, and he is half happy that Dean is always asleep when he comes, and half disappointed. Cas finds himself missing those green eyes that had stared into his, but he can't bring himself to wake the sleeping man. There's a little bit of color returning to Dean's cheeks, day by day, but he still looks horrible, and Cas can't help but wonder what he looked like before this, and before his parents accident.  
Castiel stays in a chair beside Dean's bed while he sleeps, the sun streaming in through the windows. He reads, or watches the birds outside, or sometimes just stares at Dean- watching Dean sleep has become his favorite thing to do. Every soft sigh, ever freckle, even the little wrinkles beside his closed eyes fascinates Castiel, and he finds that his attachment to Dean is growing stronger, day by day. It scares him a little, but he can't stop, doesn't want to stop.  
When Dean wakes up that morning, six days after being placed in this hell hole, he expects to wake up alone as always, the bright room that's supposed to be welcoming mocking him with it's cheerfulness that he just doesn't feel.  
But he's not alone.  
There's a slumped figure sleeping soundly in the chair beside him, long legs stretched out and resting on a low table, his hands folded in his lap. Dean instantly recognizes the messy dark hair and the long straight nose, the full lips that are slightly parted in sleep now.  
The sun streams in and hits the man's face, glinting off the stubble that covers his jawline, hints of brown and gold and red reflecting as Dean watches Cas shift slightly in his sleep.  
Castiel is there, asleep, right beside his bed.  
Cas is there.

* * * *

He lies still for a few breathless seconds, unsure of what to do. He's there... he finally came and yet all Dean feels is sadness, disappointment that he took so long, that he left him alone for so long when he must know how being alone almost literally kills Dean. He wants to wake him, wants to shake his shoulders until those bright blue eyes stare at him in confusion and he wants to yell at him and hug him and curse him for letting him get him so addicted to this, to Cas. Before he can decide what to do, the door opens and Dr. Oliver enters the room, stopping only for a second when he sees Castiel at Dean's bed, only to smile as he's coming closer. "Good morning", he greets the young man, looking down on his clipboard and back up to Dean. "I see your friend's here again."

Dean blinks, looking down at the messy dark hair and back up in the smiling face of the doctor. "Again?", he asks, his voice still lazy and quiet from exhaustion and the doctor nods, taking a few notes on his clipboard before starting to speak again. "He's been looking after you for the last, what was it... six days? Didn't you know?" Dean doesn't need to answer, he can see the mere surprise blatantly on his face...

Dr. Oliver leaves after a few minutes of talking to Dean, noting down what can only be his estimate of Dean's current mental state. And Dean's left with a chaos of emotions, confusion and happiness about Castiel's secret visits. He raises a hand and gently puts it on Cas' back, his thumb stroking the skin through the fabric of his shirt until the other man jerks, his head jolting up and his eyes catching Dean's gaze.

"Hey", Dean says quietly, giving him a small smile.

* * * *

"Oh... Hello Dean..."

Castiel feels his skin warming as blood rushes to his cheeks, suddenly embarassed that Dean was awake, after hoping he would be every time he came in. Cas stares at Dean for another minute before blinking and cusses under his breath, looking down at his watch-...it was only 11, good. He still had another 9 hours before he would have to start getting ready for his last day at the Helpline.  
Cas sits up all the way, looking down at Dean's hand as he pulls it back away from Cas' back. This was awkward. He hadn't planned on falling asleep, but it was probably inevitable as he had been working 8 hour shifts at the helpline then rushing over here to sit for as long as he could, before going home and attempting to sleep for at least 4 hours. Most evenings he had trouble sleeping, thinking about Dean and the feelings that welled up inside of him whenever he thought about blood or green eyes or that..kiss...  
Castiel clears his throat and smiles back finally, tilting his head.

"So you're finally awake when I'm here. I was beginning to wonder if you were always nocturnal... you did always call me at god awful hours."

* * * *

Dean gulps. He knows what he wants to say. 'I was trying to stay awake as long as possible cause I was hoping you'd come - and then I just thought you'd forgotten about me and I lost hope.' He doesn't say it of course, just bites his lip, lowering his gaze. "You should've woken me up...", he says eventually "I... didn't know... I mean- thanks for coming, man." He stretches out a hand to pat Castiel's shoulder and gives him a sympathetic smile: "You look tired, Cas..."

* * * *

"You were too cute sleeping, like a kitten."

He grins as he says it, the first broad sincere smile that Dean's seen out of the man, and he chuckles, his words meant to be teasing even if he did mean them. Dean was precious while asleep, and Cas had grown incredibly fond of watching him slumber.

Cas leans back in his chair and rubs the bridge of his nose, yawning.

"Besides, the Doctor suggested that because you were having trouble sleeping at night that I let you sleep. So I did."

His stomach growls and Cas quirks a brow at it, before patting it and licking his lips.

"Hm..."

He looks up at Dean and tilts his head to the side, both brows raising as he asks his question.

"You hungry?"

* * * *

Dean doesn't know what to say to the kitten commentary so he stays silent, watching Cas' lips forming a smile that warms Dean's heart immediately.

"Hm.... yeah, I could use something to eat", he agrees, only then realizing how hungry he really is "The hospital food is shit though... and I don't don't if I'm 'allowed' to go to the cafeteria..."

He rolls his eyes at that, making all to clear how he hates being treated like a prisoner.

* * * *

Cas makes a 'well crap' face, his mouth all squished over to one side, a lop sided grimace of sorts.  
He frowns and then stands up, turning to Dean to say, "Just, give me a minute okay?", before jogging out the door.  
He's gone for a good 5 minutes, but when he comes back he's loaded down with a full tray of food.  
There's a salad, pizza slices, a couple burgers, fries, a slice of pie, sliced up fruit and mashed potatoes. Two sodas and a small carton of chocoalte milk are balanced in the crook of his arm.  
Castiel smiles sheepishly as he puts the tray down on the hospital table that swings over Dean's lap.

"I didn't know what you liked..."

He shrugs and sits down after shutting the door, blocking out most of the sound from the hallway and giving them some privacy.

Cas walks to the window and pulls the shades open, the sunlight that hits his face making him squint, but smile. The windows swing open, but there's a screen bolted on to prevent people from jumping as they're on the 3rd floor of the hospital. It doesn't really matter though, because fresh air comes in anyway, the breeze ruffling Castiel's hair as he stands looking out the window for another moment, before turning to smile at Dean.

* * * *

Dean doesn't have a chance to stop Castiel and when the man returns about five minutes later with the biggest pile of food he's ever seen, all coming over his lips is a quiet "Wow" as he smiles up at the other man. He lets his gaze fall on the variation of food, noticing burgers and fries and - oh god - pie, before he raises his head again to smile at Castiel. He's standing at the window, taking a deep breath as he turns to look at Dean, the smile on his lips so goddamn sweet that Dean wants to stand up and kiss it, drink it in until that smile is inside him, warms his whole body and devours every dark thought he ever had or ever will have. He gulps, averting his eyes as he realizes how ridiculous that sounds even in his head...

"So this is probably the most awesome breakfast I ever had", he finally says, focusing back on the food and motioning Castiel to come over to eat "Thanks man... really..."

* * * *

Cas walks back over and almost sits in the chair, but then hops up to sit on the foot of the bed. He grabs an apple and lies back, his legs dangling off one side of the bed, his head off the other, to stare at the ceiling.

Castiel is quiet for a minute, just munching on his apple, before he swallows and lets the hand holding the apple fall to rest on his chest. His face is somber as he speaks, his words carefully chosen and quiet.

"...Tomorrow is my last day at the helpline."

Saying it out loud like that, it really makes it final. Tomorrow was his last day at the helpline. The day after that was his evaluation. And then he'd be driving or flying back home, home to his house on the dead still Lake, home to his boat that was still waiting for him to finish her.  
But suddenly he wasn't so eager to go home. The boat could wait. His house would be there whenever he came home. In that moment Castiel realized that in 4 weeks he had gone from wanting desperately to leave this hellhole, to finding one, and only one, reason to stay.

Dean.

Castiel doesn't look at Dean as he says this, pretending that the ceiling is far more interesting, when in reality he's afraid that his face wouldn't remain as still and calm as he needs it to be. Cas can't care as much as he does. At least, he can't show it.

* * * *

Dean watches Castiel lying down at the foot of his bed with a soft smile, completely neglecting the food on the tray. Then Cas speaks again, his words quiet and careful and suddenly there's only pain and despair where pleasant warmth had soothed Dean's aching heart only seconds ago. He swallows hard, staring at Cas' handsome profile, trying to find something, anything there. He knew this day would come, he tells himself, he knew this was only temporary, that Cas didn't belong to Dean's world, his life... it's just... he'd gotten so used to this. To Cas being there when Dean needed someone, when Dean needed him to tell him that everything would be okay. He tries to reason with himself. Maybe, somehow, Cas would still agree to talk to him from time to time. But then again he'd have to ask for his private number. And he could never do that. Not after he'd done so much harm to the other man, taking so much of his precious time, using him to soothe his own pain.

"So", he says, trying his hardest to keep his voice from shaking, a forced smile on his face like a mask "You're finally going back home, huh?"

* * * *

"I guess so..."

He turns his head to look at Dean and forces a smile, his voice strained but a little lighter this time around.

"Couldn't stay in Kansas forever, now could I?"

Castiel's mind is roaring with arguments, each piece of himself wanting something different, and all scrambling for the upper hand. He wants Dean to say 'stay Cas, stay with me', but he shouldn't because this is terrifying. He could get hurt, really hurt, and he'd been so careful not to let anyone close after his Mother, and then Anna. Because they all leave don't they? ...but maybe Dean wouldn't. Maybe Dean would need him just as badly as Cas needs him.  
And that thought makes him sick. That he could actually need someone, and not be okay on his own.  
Cas sits up, the smile fading slowly from his face as he looks down at his hands, still grasping the half eaten apple.

"Yeah... I... if the evaluation goes well I should be out of here by Friday."

Three days away. Just three short days.  
'It's not enough time', he thinks. Castiel wants more, need more.

He needs to figure out what this is, this ache in his chest to hold Dean and kiss his fading bruises and touch his hair and find out where else he cut and make everything better-

The thoughts are cut off as Cas turns his head to look at Dean again, smiling softly.

"I um, replaced your door. Had to kick it down to get to you..um...And, I don't think Sam knows. Though you might want to call him just so he doesn't get worried, you've been here for a week now."

* * * *

Cas keeps talking but all Dean hears is the echo of his words.

'Couldn't stay in Kansas forever, now could I?' and 'I should be out of here by Friday' and all he can think of is that this is real. Cas will leave him. And Dean will be alone once more. He feels like standing on the edge of a cliff, staring down into the bottomless pit of a roaring sea, waves crashing and leaving traces of salty water on his cheeks. He notices to late that Cas is looking at him again and hastily raises a hand to cover his eyes, to wipe away the single tear and force the smile back on his lips.

"You shouldn't've done this, Cas", he says, his voice a little shaky as he's trying his hardest to ignore the steady echo of Cas' words "I'll pay for that, of course... just... just send me the invoice okay?"

* * * *

Cas smiles and tilts his head to one side, raising his eyebrows.

"If you insist. I do have your address so I'll send you a bill later...oh..um..I have the..the note you wrote. Do you want to me throw it away or?"

He stands up and walks over to the head of the bed to stand beside Dean, pulling the note out of his back pocket. It's folded into a small lopsided square, but it's worn, obviously having been read over and over.  
Cas realizes how bad it looks and blushes, but there's nothing to say, no way to explain that he'd read the note a million times, feeling Dean's pain and wishing there was something he could do to lessen it.

Cas hangs onto the note, not sure if he should give it back to Dean or not.  
He looks down at the man next to him and finds his heart clenching in his throat- absentmindedly reaching out with his free hand and touches the side of Dean's face where the bruise had faded to a wince inducing green and yellow.

"...Does it hurt, Dean?"

His voice is soft, and as always when he speaks to Dean like this, filled with concern and care.

* * * *

Dean shudders at the light touch and quickly pulls back, not because he doesn't like it, doesn't want Castiel to touch him - cause Jesus Christ he does want it more than anything else - but because he's too fucking scared of letting this get even worse, this thing between him and Cas, even if it's only from Dean's side. "No", he lies, cause the cuts sting every day, reminding him painfully of what he'd done and how he'd still failed in his attempt of ending all his misery.

* * * *

Cas yanks his hand back like he's been stung when Dean pulls away so suddenly, a frown showing up on his face. He quickly pockets the note and clears his throat, looking down at his feet awkwardly.

"...I....I should probably go."

He doesn't want to, he never wants to leave Dean's side.

But this time Dean is awake, and he can't touch his face or hair or adjust the blankets around him because Dean is awake.

And he doesn't seem to want Castiel there anymore.

The thought of this hits Cas like a ton of bricks. Could Dean not want him there?  
The idea roots itself in the back of his head, and before he can stop himself he's taking a step away from the bed, his brow furrowed, eyes burning with the threat of angry and sad tears.

* * * *

"Do you have to?"

Dean speaks before he can even think about his words and his voice is all needy and asking and so fucking desperate that it hurts. He did it again, made Castiel feel uncomfortable and unwanted, practically pushed him away when he was trying to help.

Dean can't bring himself to avert his eyes from Castiel's again, not when he's secretly scared that this right here could be the last time they'd ever see each other.

"Don't go... not... not yet... if you don't have to..."

* * * *

Castiel stops and looks back at Dean, his blue eyes staring down at Dean, brow furrowed just slightly. He blinks a few times and takes a deep breath before giving Dean a soft closed lipped smile.

"No... I can stay for a while Dean."

He sits back down on the foot of the bed and silently reaches for a slice of pizza, eating it crust first. As they eat in silence for a few minutes Castiel's thoughts are on why Dean moved away from his touch. Did he not want Cas to touch him? What had that kiss been about then?  
He hadn't really thought about the kiss, dismissing it as something that Dean did when he was out of it on drugs and weak with bloodloss...but now, Dean was stronger and the drugs didn't seem to have impaired him nearly as bad.

A thought pops into Cas' head, and he looks up at Dean, eyes lidded as he watches the other man slowly devour a burger.

* * * *

Dean tries not to show how relieved he is that Cas agreed staying and fails but he can't bring himself to care much. As they both reach for something to eat there's a comfortable, a satisfied silence and even though Dean can sense that Cas is deep in thoughts he's not worried too much. He'd prevented another catastrophe, Castiel leaving because he thought he was not wanted, and even if Dean had to sacrifice a bit of his pride for it - it had been worth it. He raises his head when he feels the other man's gaze lingering on him, returning the absent look with an open, questioning face. He swallows the last bite of his burger, wiping his fingers on a napkin.

* * * *

Castiel stands up and walks to the side of the bed that the table isn’t on, pushing it out of the way so he can sit on the edge of the bed near Dean. He still hasn’t said anything, just looking into Dean’s eyes with his own wide blue ones, the soft frown not disappearing as he just stares.

Castiel licks his lips, and then moves in, capturing Dean’s with his own before Dean could yank away again. One hand comes up to cup the unbruised side of Dean’s face, thumb caressing his cheekbone as he keeps his lips pressed firmly to Dean’s.

The touch of Dean’s cracked lips to his felt like a jolt, an electric spark- this was new.  
Cas had sex. But it wasn’t ever like this. It was just release, and then there was the calm afterwards. This kiss with Dean was better than all the experiences he’d had before. The connection they shared, something more than physical, something deeper, was that what made this so amazing?

He wasn’t sure, but if it was, he wanted more. Maybe this was why people risked pain and suffering and heartache.  
Maybe love was actually worth it.


	3. Chapter 3

Before Dean can process what’s happening, before he even has the chance to say or do anything, Cas’ lips are on his and that familiar all-embracing, warming sensation floods through his whole body. All of the sudden everything he’d told himself to do and not to do is forgotten and Dean just feels. The kiss is gentle and chaste initially, just like their first but then something in Dean sparks, something powerful and raw and he brings up his un-injured hand to curl it around Castiel’s neck and pull him in. He doesn’t know if he’s the first to open his lips but suddenly their tongues are touching and Dean can’t help a quiet moan that gets swallowed by Cas immediately. Castiel tastes faintly like pizza and other than that just as Dean remembers, although he still can’t quite put a finger on what exactly it is. He feels his eyelashes brush his cheek and breathes him in, taking in his smell and taste and everything that is Cas.

* * * *

Castiel’s heart skips a beat when their tongues touch and he feels something he hadn’t felt in quite some time- aroused. The flush that heats his cheeks is quick, but he ignores it and simply breathes Dean in. Cas leans in and presses his body closer to Dean’s, feeling Dean’s chest rise and fall as rapidly as his own. The kiss was getting more intense by the moment, and Cas feels himself start to pull away even though so much of him is screaming ‘No, stop, don’t end it!’.

He pulls back, their lips parting with a wet sound. His blue eyes are lidded as he breathes heavily, trying to calm himself down. Castiel licks his lips and looks into Dean’s eyes, his hand still on his cheek.

“…I want to see you again, before I go.”

* * * *

Dean opens his eyes only reluctantly, his lips missing Castiel’s touch immediately. They’re both breathing heavily and their lips are plush and slightly red from kissing. Cas pulls away but not too far and Dean is grateful for that, can’t bear not looking at him right now.

“I don’t want you to go”, he breathes, abandoning all his doubts and the fear of getting hurt, cause this is the only thing he wants, the only thing he needs.

* * * *

Castiel sucks in a quick breath, feeling his chest cinch with a jolt of sweet pain at Dean’s admission.

‘I don’t want to go either’, is what he wants to say, so badly.  
What he says out loud is,

“I know Dean…”

Then Castiel leans in to kiss him again, deepening the kiss even further than before, one hand on his cheek still, the other sliding up Dean’s chest slowly, aiming to wrap around the back of his neck, but stopping to feel Dean’s heartbeat. It’s quick, almost like a hummingbird’s, and reassuring. Castiel’s tongue dances with Dean’s, his head tilting to the right as he opens his mouth a little further.

* * * *

He doesn’t say it but Dean knows that Castiel won’t- can’t stay and it breaks Dean’s heart. He never signed up for this, this bittersweet pain this man is bringing him. Then he’s kissed again, with much more urgency, more determination and Cas’ hand touching his chest makes his heart flutter like a leaf in a storm. He leans forward until he’s sitting straight up, pressing against Cas as their tongues tangle and their breaths mingle. His bandaged hand comes up to cup Castiel’s face, holding him, so afraid he could pull back, leave him naked and ravished like this.

* * * *

This kiss was wrecking Castiel, he could feel it deep inside. His will power begins to fall away the longer Dean’s lips are on his, the more skin contact they have. The fears Castiel harbored, the fears about getting close, about really feeling something for another person- about falling in love - they melt away like Dean’s heated breath on his lips directly touches them, each breath ghosting another worry or ‘what-if’ away into the wind.

“Dean…”

Castiel moves even closer, pressing Dean back into the bed, a soft moan escaping his lips at the shift of the bed beneath them. He pulls the hand off Dean’s chest, moving it down his stomach to dip deftly under the edge of Dean’s shirt. Pressing his cool hand to the smooth skin of Dean’s stomach almost burns, and Cas can’t help the sharp inhale of breath through his nose as he dives back into the kiss.

* * * *

Dean presses his eyes firmly shut, feeling hot tears behind his lids and refusing to let them go, to show Cas just how much this affects him. Cas presses Dean’s body back against the pillows and Dean lets him, pulling him with, desperate to keep him as close as possible. Feeling the soft touch of cool fingertips on his heated skin makes him shiver, a shaky breath or a moan escaping his opened lips.

“Cas”, he whispers and realizes that he’s crying, no matter how hard he’d been trying to restrain himself.

* * * *

A hot wet tear slides out of Dean’s eyes and down his cheek along his nose to slip into Cas’ mouth. He slowly pulls back, tasting the over whelming salt. He opens his eyes and looks at Dean, a bit of terror flickering over his face.

“Dean?”

His voice is worried, all the fear that had fallen away from him just moments earlier rushing back. Did Dean not want this? But he had responded so willingly…What was going on? Castiel brushes his thumb over Dean’s cheekbone slowly, his brow furrowed gently as he searches Dean’s green, red rimmed eyes.

* * * *

“Don’t stop”, Dean gasps as Castiel pulls back, looking at him with questioning eyes. His hands grab both sides of Castiel’s face, pulling him back in, crashing their mouths together and kissing him with such fierce determination that it scares himself.

* * * *

Castiel stiffens for a moment, surprised at Dean’s insistence and dominance for a moment, but then he just melts into it, kissing Dean back just as hard. Carefully he uses one hand to shove the table away from the bed, ignoring the fruit that rolls off and bounces onto the floor.  
He shifts so he’s lying next to Dean on the bed, lying on his side so he’s facing the man, his hips pressed to Dean’s. He doesn’t have any cords in him now, only needing the IV once a day, so they’re free to move with no wires or tubes attached to Dean’s arms. Cas is still careful though, making sure not to lie down on Dean’s injured hand. Castiel moves his hands down Dean’s torso, wrapping around his back to pull him as close as he can, his fingers gently digging into his back.

“I won’t Dean,…I won’t stop…”

He speaks in between kisses, gasping out the words against Dean’s bruised lips. Cas’ body was responding rapidly, and it’s obvious how bad it is when his hardon presses into Dean’s thigh through his jeans and the thin blanket over Dean.

* * * *

Everything’s happening so fast and Dean can barely keep up with Cas sliding in his bed, wrapping his arms around him and kissing him back, breathing promises against his lips as their mouths melt against each other. His whole body is hot, pressing eagerly against Cas’, small, deep moans escaping his throat. He says Cas’ name, over and over, his hands roaming over his body, finding the hem of his shirt and tugging at it, sliding his hands over Cas’ naked stomach and up to his chest, touching every inch of skin he can reach.

* * * *

Castiel softly grinds his hips against Dean’s, gentle moans coming from his lips.  
“Dean…W…we can’t..We have to slow down.”

His words don’t match his actions though as his hands travel down to grip Dean’s hips and pull them tight against his own. Castiel has never felt this hot, this wanted, or this needy. He can’t stop himself from wanting Dean, and doesn’t want to.

The only reason he hasn’t stripped off Dean’s clothes is because of where they are, he doesn’t exactly want to get him kicked out of the hospital. Only one more day and Dean would be free to leave anyway.

* * * *

He hears Cas’ words but they don’t make any sense to him. Not when their bodies touch in such a delicious, intimate way, not when Cas is writhing against him, panting like there’s no air left, like all he can breathe now is Dean.

“I need you”, Dean sobs as his hand is brushing over Cas’ chest, thumb and index finger circling one of his nipples and eliciting a surprised moan from the other man.

* * * *

Dean’s touch makes Castiel arch his back in surprise, his hips thrusting against Dean’s again hard.

“Dean…”  
The way he says Dean’s name is like a cuss word, or like he’s talking to God. Dean is someone he’s praying to in desperation for release. He slides his hands under Dean’s clothes again, his fingers spreading out against his lower back, brushing his thumb over the skin, then scratching his nails gently as he deepens the kiss again. They keep kissing for another minute before Castiel pulls back again, eyes shut as he leans his forehead against Dean’s, both of them gasping for breath.

“We can’t Dean….Not now…”

He sighs and licks his lips before opening his blue eyes to stare into Dean’s.

“Please…let me pick you up tomorrow when they release you…”

* * * *

When Cas pulls back, Dean tries to follow his lips, tries to keep kissing him like he knows he needs to. He doesn’t want to hear what Cas is saying, doesn’t want it, this, to ever stop. He knows he’s right, though and with a defeated sigh he pulls back his hands, slipping them out from under Cas’ shirt and resting them on his hips.

“What are you doing to me?”, he asks, and though his eyes are filled with tears, small droplets of sweat running over his exhausted face there’s a small smile on his lips.

* * * *

Castiel leans in and gently kisses the tears on Dean’s face, brushing any remnants of wetness away with the back of his fingers.

“I…I don’t know Dean.”

His voice is thick in his throat and a slight frown appears on his forehead. Cas leans back again, looking into Dean’s eyes, his own confused, but open. He wants to know what this means to Dean, almost as badly as he wants to know what this means to himself. He cares about Dean, deeply, more than he knows he logically should. And he’s quite obviously attracted to Dean, more than he’s ever been to anyone before. Dean is making him feel things, such great things. Things he either promised himself he would never feel again, or things that he never thought he was capable of feeling in the first place.

And it’s terrifying and exhilarating and breath taking all at once. Cas feels like he can’t breathe but he doesn’t need to breathe anymore because all he needs is to touch Dean’s skin and kiss his lips and he could live on that alone now, he thinks.

“…I have to go.”

He pulls back, standing up and blushing at the extremely obvious tent in his pants. He adjusts himself quickly and brushes a shaking hand through his hair before pausing and looking back down at the gorgeous man in the bed.

“….I’ll be back tomorrow morning.”

He leans back down to kiss Dean one more time.

* * * *

Dean doesn’t hold him back. His every cell, every fibre of his being longs to touch Castiel more, wants to grab his arm and pull him back down and make him forget about everything but Dean. But he knows that they can’t do this, not here, not now - not when everything is still so new and exciting and neither of them even thought about what this could possibly mean. So he lets him go, lets him brush his lips once more against his own and he lets him leave, watching his smooth movements, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile before he closes the door behind him. Dean sinks back into the cushions, closing his eyes and sucking in a deep breath. He needs to think about this, figure out what had just happened, what this unspeakable thing between him and Castiel was. But his body refuses to let him, his hand sliding down his body, underneath the loose gown and as he strokes himself to rapture, there’s only one name echoing in his head.

* * * *

Only twenty minutes after leaving the hospital, Castiel is back home in his shabby little apartment, trying his hardest to fall asleep so he can get at least a few hours before he has to go into work… but sleep doesn’t come.  
He lies awake thinking about Dean, nothing but Dean. Everything that Dean was a mess, a suicidally beautiful mess, one that Castiel wanted to wrap up in a fresh from the dryer blanket and hold and soothe and kiss until all his worries went away. Castiel hadn’t felt like this about anything, ever. He never wanted to protect people. He never wanted so very badly to be one with someone, except when the urge for release and touch from another person hit- but that always ended with disappointment. Most of all he never wanted to see someone smile, in true happiness, so badly in his entire life.  
Lying there and realizing all of this, how he could risk the pain and heartache of losing Dean, if it meant he got to see Dean smile and laugh even for just a while, Castiel realizes something.

“…This must be what love feels like.”

With that realization firmly seated in his mind, he finally manages to catch Morpheus as the God of Sleep dances, teasingly close, around his head. As he sleeps Castiel dreams vivid, gorgeous dreams. Every one of them centering around Dean.

* * * *

When Dean wakes on the morning of his release from the hospital he feels light and content - there’s another feeling, he can’t quite place and he sits up, rubbing his eyes and looking out of the still opened window. Outside the birds are chirping and the soft wind is rustling through the trees - the storm long forgotten and gone. And Dean remembers the last day, remembers Cas touching him, whispering his name like a prayer and kissing him. He feels his cheeks blush at the mere thought and sinks back into the cushions, staring at the ceiling above. He had had trouble falling asleep the night before it was nothing like those other nights, when he was still hoping Cas would finally come and visit him - he lay awake, watching the shadows grow longer, the sky darkening and filling with millions of stars, thinking about Castiel. He still doesn’t know what this is, when the simple caring for and looking after each other had turned into this sheer desire to touch and possess each other whole. But he knows that this is not normal, not common - he knows that he’s never felt like this before, never wanted someone as badly as he now wants Castiel.

* * * *

Castiel is there like he promised, around 10am. Cas had brought Dean a pair of jeans and a shirt from his apartment so he wouldn’t have to wear the pj pants and shirt the hospital gave him home. Dr. Oliver clears Dean to be released with a smile on his face, telling him to take care, and please continue with his counseling. Castiel nods a thank you to the Doctor, and leads the way out the door. 

Cas is feeling positive. Everything was going right. Dean was released like he was supposed to be, the supervisor at the hotline sent a letter of recommendation to the judge who sentenced Castiel, and the day was just starting.  
Even if he was already fairly tired from being up all night, Cas felt energized just looking at Dean in the passenger seat of his rented car, his skin no longer nearly as pale, his posture straighter and his eyes no longer glassy from drugs.  
For a Wednesday, it was a good day.

* * * *

It was definitely weird. Dean sits in Cas’ car, just out of the hospital and feeling awkward as hell. When Cas had come in his room that morning, Dr. Oliver had already been there so there had been no time to talk or… there just hadn’t been time. So only when the nurse - who had walked them to Castiel’s car - leaves, they are finally alone. And it is awkard. They don’t really say a word, other than Cas telling Dean to mind his head when getting in the car and his steady blue eyes watching Dean fastening his seatbelt. And now those eyes are directed at the road in front of him and Dean’s scared to talk, scared to annoy Cas and to burst this perfect bubble of bliss that the day before had left him in…

* * * *

“What kind of music do you listen to?”

Cas flips on the radio, hoping to drown the tension with some tunes. He motions for Dean to go ahead and change the channel from the classical station it’s on if he wants to. Castiel had been feeling relaxed, but he’s not stupid, and he quickly picks up on the tension and anxiety coming from Dean. Then he starts thinking about how he really only has two more days here.  
Two more days in Kansas. With Dean.  
It makes his chest hurt in a way that isn’t pleasant at all, and he suddenly wants to do anything to stay- to have a reason to stay.  
Cas can’t just stay to stay with Dean though.  
That would be too much. He’s expressed how much he wants to get out of here, out of Kansas, and back home so many times now. Telling Dean that he wants to stay just to be with him would be too much- it would surely scare Dean away.

If only there was another reason, a reason he had to stay in Kansas besides Dean.

* * * *

Dean smiles at Cas, thankful that he broke the silence and stretches out his left arm - his injured arm - to reach for the radio. Finally he finds a station that plays classic rock. He turns down the volume a bit though, not wanting to scare Cas off. They’re playing Foreigner’s “Long Long Way From Home” and Dean leans back in the seat, turning his head to look straight at Cas for the first time since they’re alone again. The other man notices of course but keeps looking at the street, his reddening cheeks the only indication of him being aware of Dean staring at him. Dean licks his lips and feels himself blush a little as well. “Thanks for picking me up”, he finally says, his voice quiet and the words - although heartfelt - only meant as an excuse to talk to Cas.

* * * *

Watching Dean's still bandaged arm move to adjust the radio, Cas winces before he can stop himself. He just hopes Dean doesn't notice, and when he seems not to, Castiel feels like he can breathe again. It would be a long road for Dean to fully heal, he had cut a lot of muscle and veins and tissue, and the Doctors had been surprised that he had almost full use of that hand only a week after he sliced his arm open. It was good though, if Dean wanted to be a mechanic. He would need strength and dexterity, both of which were normally severely diminished when one had an injury like Dean's.  
Cas feels Dean's eyes on his face and finds he can't control the blush, so he stops trying. The warmth in his cheeks is almost enjoyable, but he rolls down the window of the driver's side anyway, the rush of fresh air a nice break from the stuffy car. The wind rolls in, passing over Castiel and bringing the fresh scent of soap and shampoo and maybe aftershave with it to Dean. It's then that Dean notices Castiel's hair isn't nearly as messy, and he's clean shaven.  
Cas got a little spiffed up to pick Dean up from the hospital, he realizes.  
Cas smiles softly and turns his head to look at Dean as he parks outside of Dean's apartment.

“Glad to.”

* * * *

He likes Cas' scent, had liked it from the moment he first met the man a week ago. It was the last thing he had smelled before fainting and the first thing after waking up at the hospital. It means security, comfort - love? Dean turns his head to look out of his window, taking deep breaths and trying not to think about how close Castiel is to him. When they reach Dean's neighborhood and Cas stops the car, Dean can't move for a moment. He hadn't thought too much about it but now that he's here he realizes that he's scared of going back in there. Cas had told him that he had replaced the kicked in front door but that had been the least of Dean's worries... He pulls himself together after another silent minute, climbing out the car, wincing when he bends the wrong way and the wounds on his chest and neck sting like hell. They take the few steps to Dean's apartment, Dean fumbling in his pocket for his keys and opening the door with shaky hands. He's almost afraid to look... almost...

"What...", he starts but can't bring himself to keep talking, cause suddenly there's this overwhelming feeling of gratitude and he's too choked up to articulate himself. The livingroom is clean and tidy. Dean takes another step towards the couch, staring down at it with utter confusion and back up at Cas who's smiling a bit awkwardly. "Did you... Cas... did you do this?"

* * * *

“...Yeah. I didn't know if your brother would be coming over, or if he had a key, so I couldn't just leave the giant pool of dried blood for him to find. I think he would have suspected something Dean.”

He raises an eyebrow at the other man, smirking slightly.  
The smirk was a cover for the feeling of pride and joy inside. He was happy that Dean was astonished, and even happier that he had done the right thing by cleaning everything up.

“Come on let's go inside.”

He gently pushes at Dean's lower back, leaving his hand there until they get inside and Cas can shut the door behind them.

“Some of the stains wouldn't come out of the couch..or the carpet. I had to rearrange things a bit, sorry.”

* * * *

Dean's still kind of speechless, as Cas gently pushes him forward and when he stops speaking, Dean turns around, just looking at him in silent awe for a moment. Then he takes a step forward, wrapping his arms around the slightly smaller man's shoulders and pressing him at him. He hides his face in the hollow of Cas' neck, breathing him in as he whispers "Thank you, Cas."

* * * *

Cas hesitates for a second before wrapping his arms around Dean's back carefully.

“You're welcome Dean...”

They stand like this for a few more minutes, Castiel burying his nose in Dean's hair, wondering what it would smell like if he had been using his own shampoo this past week, rather than the crappy coconut stuff the hospital had provided.  
Cas gently rubs Dean's back and then steps out of the embrace, smiling up at Dean. He realizes this is the first time Dean has been standing since they met, and he's a little surprised to see that Dean is taller, by at least two inches.

“You're taller than me.”

It was a statement of fact, but also a little bit of shock in the way Cas says it, his mouth curling into a quirky grin.

* * * *

Dean blinks and then nods slowly. It's true of course but it doesn't matter to Dean. 'You have the bigger heart though', he wants to say but stops himself cause it'd sound stupid and sappy and weird.

"You didn't expect me to", he says instead and it's more of a statement, rather than a question. He looks down at Cas with interest sparking in his green eyes "How did you think I'd look like?"

* * * *

 

Cas frowns, concentrating on remembering what his dreams had been like before he met Dean. He shrugs and sits down on the couch, looking up at Dean.

“I don't really know....Not like this though.”

He gestures to Dean, his eyes a little wide in awe, appreciation of just how pretty, gorgeous, handsome, and a million other positive adjectives Castiel found him There wasn't really a way for Cas to explain how attractive he found Dean, so he wouldn't try. He hoped his eyes lingering on Dean's form spoke it clearly enough though.

“....Am I what you thought I'd be like?”

He looks up from where his eyes had rested, on Dean's hidden stomach, back into those green eyes that were so heavily framed in long lashes.

* * * *

Dean can't bring himself to sit down next to Cas, not because he doesn't want to be closer to him - he just can't imagine coming near the spot where the life had bled out of him only a week ago. He keeps standing as close as he dares, looking down on the other man and frowning.

"I... I don't know", he says, smiling a little awkwardly "I guess I thought you were... older... cause... your voice is so... deep..." - 'and soothing and incredibly arousing...'

He interrupts himself, blushing slightly.

* * * *

“Really?”

He chuckles and reaches out with one hand to touch Dean's, playing with his fingers. He'd been told before that his voice sounded like an old man's being drug through a gravel road, and had always thought it made him sound a little scary. But the way Dean had said that makes him think Dean actually likes his voice. That was a new one.

“Hey...you okay?”

He notices that Dean is just hovering there, standing beside him, avoiding looking at the couch-..oh. Castiel stands up and cups Dean's face in his hands.

“Sorry...I didn't think about...Do you want to go somewhere else?”

* * * *

Dean nods and leans into Cas' touch for a moment.

"Anywhere but... the couch", he says and raises a hand to cup Castiel's on his cheek. He takes a deep breath, trying to focus on anything but the softness of his voice and the tingling sensations it sends through his whole body. "Hm... the balcony?"

* * * *

“Balcony?”

Castiel's brows arch up and he smiles, standing up to follow Dean out onto the balcony that is at the back of the apartment, through a large sliding glass door.

“...mm...”

There's a soft breeze the minute they open the door, the morning still relatively cool, even though it was already almost 11am. There's a pair of wicker chairs to the left, but Castiel chooses to stand instead, leaning against the metal railing. They're on the second floor so it's not that high up, but the little courtyard behind the apartment building is beautiful, and the second floor has a much better view than the first floor.  
He tilts his head at Dean, watching as the other man stares at him.

“What?”

* * * *

He doesn't even mind getting caught staring. He had realized that - if the evaluation went well - Cas would be free to go back home in two days, leaving Dean behind to carry on with his life. Dean wants to believe that this won't mean the end of their connection, that this unusual, yet profound bond between them would still exist, even with both of them in different cities, different states. He steps closer to Cas, putting his hand over Castiel's on the railing.

"Maybe you aren't what I expected", he then says, slowly and with an unfamiliar seriousness in his voice "but you're exactly what I need."

* * * *

Castiel freezes, his breath stopping mid exhale. 'Exactly what I need'....the words echo in his head, fluttering around like so many nervous butterflies, causing him to not be able to think straight for a moment. He finally is able to breath again, and a smile comes over his face, softening his features immensely, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes showing up again.

“...Dean......”

He tilts his head to one side, bringing a hand up to wrap around the back of Dean's neck, pulling him closer so their lips can meet once again. This time the kiss isn't rushed, but soft and sweet, tender even. Cas doesn't want to rush this. He wants to feel everything, every piece of his body responding to Dean's, accepting somewhere inside that this feeling had to be more than just lust- it had to be love.

* * * *

His hands let go of the railing, one gripping Cas' hip and pulling him closer, the other one travelling up to stroke his dark hair. They take their time, softly brushing their lips against each other, learning what makes the other sigh with pleasure. When Cas presses against him and grazes the wound on Dean's chest, he hisses but doesn't let go of the other man, gently sucking on his upper lip.

* * * *

Castiel could hear the difference between pain and pleasure though, and pulls back slowly to look into Dean’s eyes.

“…Come with me..”

He takes Dean’s hand in his, fingers intertwining, and leads the way back into the apartment. Cas knows Dean’s apartment by now, having cleaned the whole place top to bottom, so tugging Dean down the hallway to his bedroom isn’t a hard task.  
Cas stops next to the bed and turns around to face Dean. His face betrays nervousness, but his hands are stready as they work on Dean’s shirt, unbuttoning it from the top slowly, one button at a time. Cas leans in and kisses Dean again while his hands work, uncovering expanses of tanned, scarred skin.

* * * *

His heart is beating so loud that Dean is sure, Cas must hear it too, hammering against his ribcage and almost making him breathless. When Cas’ slender finger start working on the buttons of his shirt, he gulps, watching him while his mind races. There is no doubt where this is leading, no mistake about what they’re doing here. This is no longer just a fling, two people randomly kissing cause it makes them feel good, and Dean’s not sure it ever was. This was so much more. And he can feel it in the way Cas’ hands are shaking, that he’s nervous and excited and scared just as much as Dean is. Once he’s done unbuttoning his shirt, Dean raises a hand to Castiel’s cheek, brushing his thumb gently over the heated skin.

* * * *

Cas looks into Dean’s eyes, as if asking permission, before slowly pushing Dean back onto the bed. Castiel takes his time, looking over Dean’s torso, crisscrossed with scars and scabs, fresh and old marks. Cas lets out a gentle sigh and bends down, starting near Dean’s collarbones, he starts kissing every scar. Soft puffs of breath brush against Dean’s skin, Cas’ tongue occasionally darting out to trail over a particularly large or jagged looking scar. It’s a slow process, and his hands brush behind his lips and tongue, rubbing the tickling feeling left by his lips away in gentle circles.

“Dean….”

Kiss… touch…

“You’re beautiful…”

Another kiss…another soft rubbing touch.  
Cas wants to touch every scar, kiss every wound, let Dean know with his body that Cas doesn’t care about this- these scars are a part of Dean, and each one is unique and lovely in it’s own way. Cas can feel himself harden, but ignores the throb and heat that comes from his jeans- everything was Dean right now, and nothing could take his attention away from that.

* * * *

His eyes don’t leave Cas, not when he pushes him down on the bed, not when he leans over him, kissing every single scar that graced his torn and hideous body. Cas’ lips are dry and chapped but each kiss is so incredibly gentle and loving that it drives Dean crazy. His words are spoken softly, hot breath against Dean’s trembling skin and a shiver runs down his spine. ‘Beautiful’… it’s a word he’d never would’ve used, never connected to himself. He couldn’t see it, couldn’t see past the blemishes, so how could Cas? He remembers his first call, the night Cas first saved his life. How he’d asked how anyone could ever love him? And how Cas had replied ‘I’ve found that even when we don’t think we deserve it, even when everything is gray and you’re disgusted with yourself… there’s always someone who loves you…’ Dean gasps as Cas’ lips touch an old scar on his hip and reaches out one hand to grab his shoulder.

“Cas”, he whispers, blinking rapidly through the veil of sweat beads on his eyelashes “Cas… please…… I- I can’t…”

He sees the confusion in the other man’s eyes, his heart clenching in his chest, and gently pulls him up to meet his lips again.

“I can’t do this…”, he breathes against his lips, kissing him again and again.

* * * *

Castiel frowns, his eyes searching Dean’s for more explanation.

“I don’t…I don’t understand..”

He brushes the back of his fingers along Dean’s cheek, pressing his body against Dean’s as he lies on his side next to him.

“….I thought you wanted this…wanted me?”

He looks hurt, sad even. There’s no anger in his voice or on his face as he kisses Dean again, as if he could pull the answer to his question out of Dean by shared breath alone.

* * * *

Dean kisses him back, presses his lips to his as if it was the only thing to keep him alive in this moment - and it might just be…

“I do… I want you so bad, Cas…”

His hands cup Castiel’s face, tilting it slightly upwards and slips his tongue in his mouth, kissing him with more intent and desperation.

“But you’re gonna leave me and-… Cas, if we’ll do this, it’s gonna break me…”

* * * *

“Dean…”

Castiel’s eyes are pained for a moment, and then he kisses him back, hard and tight, holding onto Dean with everything he has. He won’t lose this, having been so scared of it for so long- he can’t. He can’t just let go, stop feeling everything that’s rushing through him in the moment.

“I can’t stop…I need you.”

He kisses along Dean’s throat, one hand gliding down Dean’s stomach, brushing a palm over his jeans in just the right spot for delicious friction. Cas had never felt this, the need for another person. Normally he would be fine being told no, being told to stop. But he wanted Dean so badly, with every piece of himself. Just the thought of leaving Dean though- it hurt. It hurt to think that in two days he would be on a plane, flying home, so far away from the hurting man beside him. But he had no reason to stay, nothing solid to bind and hold him here. Nothing but Dean.  
And he couldn’t make Dean hold that, even more guilt for keeping Castiel here, where he wasn’t at home, wasn’t happy.  
He needed another reason to stay.

* * * *

A low moan comes over his lips as Cas touches him and he feels his whole body tense. He can’t move, can’t breathe, can’t talk - Cas is devouring and Dean is willing to let him, have him whole, make him forget everything else and just revel in this sweet ecstasy. It takes him all his willpower, every last bit of physical strength to push Cas away, make him stop driving Dean over the edge.

“Then go”, he says, every syllable, every word tingling with regret and desire and pain. He won’t cry. Not this time.

* * * *

Cas opens his mouth to say something, anything. To tell Dean that he would stay, he would find another reason to stay here, in this horrible small town, just to be near him. But the pain in Dean’s eyes stops him, and he shuts his mouth slowly, lips pressed into a thin line.

Castiel nods, shutting his eyes as he backs away, off the bed.

He doesn’t say anything as he stands up off the bed, but his blue eyes open again and look at Dean, conveying something that Dean can’t quite place. Fondness, sorrow,… regret? No… it was something else, something that Cas had never voiced to him, but was plain in his eyes as he looked down at the ground and then turned and left without a word.

It was love. Cas loved Dean, loved every broken piece of him, and with the sound of a click as the door shuts, Cas was gone.

* * * *

He wants to reach out, wants to hold him back but they both know he shouldn’t, that he can’t. He manages to restrain himself until Cas is gone, can’t bear to let Cas see his tears once again. “Goodbye Cas”, he says to himself and he breaks. Wrapping his arms around his legs he curls up into a ball, sobbing desperately. He doesn’t know how long he’s cried but when he opens his eyes his bedroom is dark. There’s nothing left to remind him of Cas, nothing but his knowledge of what had happened, nothing but the small traces of his clearing work. He doesn’t eat that night and he doesn’t sleep either, sitting on the armchair by the window, staring out into the night, wondering if he’d be able to live without Cas.


	4. Chapter 4

Late Thursday night, almost so late that it’s Friday morning, there’s a knock on Dean’s door. When he opens it he sees someone standing there, someone he didn’t think he’d ever see again.

Cas.

He smiles at Dean, almost apologetically for it being so late.

Cas had known what he had to do, after the evaluation had gone through, despite his protests that he didn’t think he was ready to be done, that he hadn’t learned his lesson. The supervisor had vouched for him and that was enough for the Judge, so he had been cleared to go home.

Castiel had to find a reason to stay, any reason, that would make it so he couldn’t leave just yet. So he had instigated a fight with a burly trucker at one of the local bars on Route 35 in hopes of getting more community service, gotten his ass kicked, and then been caught by the cops. They told him to clear out, but despite him begging to be taken in they just laughed and told him to sleep it off.

His plan, which had seemed so brilliant, fueled by love, had fallen through.

But Dean didn’t have to know that. All Dean needed to know was that Castiel couldn’t leave just yet.

“The evaluation went well..but….There was another fight. I have another month of community service.”

* * * *

It’s too much for Dean. The man he’d been longing to see, touch just one more time is standing on his doorstep, telling him that he doesn’t have to leave, that there’s still time to kiss him, to hold him, to learn him better. His knees go weak and he has to lean against the doorframe in order to keep standing at all. Then Cas’ words finally soak in completely and he looks up, worry in his eyes.

“Another fight?”, he asks incredulously, raising a hand to gently touch the faint bruise on the other man’s temple “No… Cas, how could you let that happen?”

Before Cas can say anything, Dean drags him inside, pulling him into a tight embrace, wrapping his arms around him, intent to not let go of him again. He’s feeling a mixture of confusion, disappointment, anger - but most of all happiness and relief. He knows he shouldn’t give in so easily, knows he should keep his distance and don’t let Cas get under his skin even more - but he also knows it’s too late for that. Cas owns him in a way that scares and excites Dean at the same time…

* * * *

Cas pulls back from the hug just long enough to capture Dean’s lips in a kiss, pushing him up against the door that Castiel had replaced only a week prior. His lips are hungry and yearning, and his hands slide down to hold onto Dean’s hips.

“I missed you…”

He barely gets the words out in between more fevered kisses, his throat is tight with emotion, it’s hard to say anything at all.  
Castiel feels guilty for lying to Dean- he really doesn’t want this, whatever this is, to be based on a lie.  
But somewhere inside he recognizes that he’d rather lie and have Dean in his life, than tell the truth and have Dean push him away.  
In the short weeks they’ve gotten to know one another, Castiel has come to understand some things about the man he currently has pinned to the door.

1) Dean has a guilt complex the size of Texas.

2) He believes that he should never be truly happy, because he is at fault for his parents death, and thus must suffer forever for it.

and 3) Cas would make him happy. So he can’t have Cas just because they want one another. There has to be another reason, a cover for why Cas has to stay.

Cas could deal with a little guilt if it kept the gorgeous tanned man in his arms right where he belonged.

* * * *

He barely has time to breathe before Cas’ lips effectively shut him up. He feels the hardwood door in his back and Castiel’s hands on his hips, as his mouth keeps devouring Dean’s. A soft moan escapes his lips as he grinds his pelvis against Cas’, desperate for a touch, for friction and release.

“You’re so stupid”, he whispers, still mildly upset that Cas had ruined his chances of going home but utterly grateful for it at the same time “Cas, you’re so stupid…”

He brings up his hands to hold Castiel’s face, while their tongues meet and they kiss each other with desire, their mouths parting with wet smacking sounds. He’s pressing his hips closer to Cas, moaning every time their bodies meet and kissing him even more passionately.

* * * *

Cas moves Dean away from the door just enough to push it shut with one hand, the other moving around Dean's back to pull him even closer. Cas had wanted so very badly to stay last night, but Dean had told him to go- that he couldn't do this because Cas would leave in just a few days.

Now Cas' lie had bought them some time, and he was hoping with his whole heart that it would let Dean open up to him, to let go of his worries and the stubborn self punishment he had been inflicting on himself since his parents died.

Cas wanted Dean to just be able to enjoy this, as much as he knew he would.

He shoves Dean back against the wall again, grinding his hips against Dean's, before shifting a leg inbetween his and gently pressing it against Dean's crotch for even more friction.

"I know... I'm sorry."

* * * *

When Cas pushes him against the wall, Dean gasps, his eyes wide with surprise and clouded with lust. Castiel's forcefulness is new but oh-so-good. Dean feels himself getting hard in seconds, something that he hasn't experienced for too long. He digs his fingernails in the back of Cas' shirt, desperately clinging to his body, pulling him closer, closer, kissing him like he can't live without their lips touching.

"I want you, Cas", he whispers against Castiel's neck, nibbling at it gently before pressing wet, open mouthed kisses on his pulse line.

* * * *

At Dean's whispered words against his neck, Castiel can't stop his hips from thrusting against Dean's once more.

"A...ah.."

The fingernails and the kisses, it's all too much.  
Cas breaks away from Dean long enough to take hold of the shirt Dean's wearing and pratically tear it off him, buttons flying and perhaps a seam tearing along the way. He kneels slowly, kissing down Dean's torso with firm presses, and sharp nips of the skin every now and then.

Once on his knees Cas looks up at Dean, the too blue eyes standing out as if the rest of the world was sepia toned. He smiles softly and then starts unbuttoning Dean's jeans.

* * * *

His whole body's trembling under Cas' touches and kisses and the burning look of his cobalt blue eyes and Dean can't decide whether to press forward, closer to those sinful lips and nimble fingers or back at the wall to steady himself, to prevent from collapsing on the floor, arousal and excitement too much to handle anymore. His hands find Cas' shoulders and grip them tight, as he's looking down at Cas pulling down the zipper of his jeans and gently but determinately tugging at the seam of his pants. Dean's eyes are filled with desire, as he pants Cas' name over and over, like a charm.

* * * *

Cas grins and pulls down Dean's pants, but not his underwear- he flashes a look up at Dean that signals teasing and play. Cas wasn't going to rush this, as much as he wanted to. He leans forward and nuzzles Dean's cock through the boxer fabric, ghosting his mouth over the form of it and closing his lips around the head through the thin veil of cotton. He stops though, and slowly stands back up, sliding his hands up on either side of Dean's body as he moves.

"...bedroom."

It's more a statement or a soft command than a question, but he quirks a brow anway, giving Dean a choice if he wants to stay and be defiled against the wall in his living room, or if he'd prefer his bedroom.

* * * *

If Dean had been able to form coherent phrases he'd suggested this minutes ago. As ravished and aroused as he is right now, there's really nothing more he can do but yank Cas forward, pressing their lips together in an open-mouthed kiss, while pushing him backwards through the narrow hallway in the bedroom. The apartment is pitch dark but they both know their way without even having to look. Once they're inside, Dean has barely time to push the door closed, until Cas grabs his open jeans and turns them around, guiding Dean inside the room until the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed and he tumbles backwards, Cas falling on top of him.

* * * *

Cas laughs for a moment, catching his breath as he lets his eyes adjust until all he can see is shadows and soft highlights that slowly shift to form a face that always makes his heart skip a beat.

"...Dean."

He leans down and slowly kisses Dean again, using his arms to brace his body up a little so he's not crushing Dean with his weight- even as unlikely as it is that his smaller form could do that to Dean's more muscled body. He shifts slightly and it's like their hips lock together, two puzzle pieces that just work perfectly with one another. He moans softly against Dean's lips and deepens the kiss while rocking his hips forward, his jeans rough against the delicate boxer fabric.

* * * *

For a few minutes that's all they do. Cas leaning above Dean, grinding his pelvis down against Dean's crotch, their moans getting louder and more needy with each thrust. Dean's not sure how long he's able to keep this pace up so he reaches out to curl his hand around Castiel's neck and pulls him down in a feverish kiss.

"Cas", he breathes in between the touching of their lips "More... I want... I want you so bad..."

* * * *

Castiel smiles against the kiss and kisses Dean even deeper, gently scraping his teeth over Dean's lower lip. He reaches down between them and slides his hand inside of Dean's boxers, fingers cool as they wrap around Dean's shaft.

"Want me to what... Dean?"

He nudges Dean's head to one side with his own, leaning in to suck on his pulse point, the pressure building and almost hurting- Dean was sure to have a monstrous hickey there tomorrow. Cas slowly tightens his grip on Dean's cock just a bit before sliding his hand down, thumb gliding over the tip, then back up. The action is deliciously slow, torture of the best kind.

* * * *

Dean wants to answer, he really does, but all that comes over his cut lips is a deep moan, followed by shaky breaths. Cas is enjoying this, teasing him like this but Dean can't bring himself to care.

"Th- this... touch me", he finally whispers as his fingers once again dig into Castiel's shoulders, yearning for more body contact and support.

* * * *

So Cas obliges, touching Dean gently and firmly, his hand working expertly on Dean's cock. He'd brought himself to climax so many times in his life just like this that doing it to another man wasn't that hard, and even the one time before Dean that he'd done this, the guy had gasped out how good Cas was. It had been an ego boost then, but seeing Dean fall apart under his hands and lips now was bringing Castiel to a whole new kind of high.

He nibbles on Dean's ear while he strokes him, sliding off to the side to mold his body to Dean's, his hips slowly thrusting against Dean's side. Cas wants release too, but for now he'll focus on Dean, loving how he can draw gasps and whimpers, sighs and groans out of that gorgeous mouth.

* * * *

When Cas starts stroking him, there's not a single thought left in Dean's mind. His head filled with a mantra of 'Cas Cas Cas' he's writhing beneath the other man, feeling his eyes on him, marvelling at how each of his movements, his every touch drives Dean closer to ecstasy. He feels Cas' hardon at his side and reaches out to rub his bandaged hand over it, gasping at how this simple touch makes his body jolt with excitement. He gulps, turning his head until he can reach Cas' lips and he kisses him, yearning, needy. His whole body is burning with desire and he knows he won't last long. It's been too long since somebody had touched him like this... too long that Dean had had such strong feelings for another person...

* * * *

Cas shifts to pull Dean's boxers down off his hips, freeing his cock to the evening air. Cas kisses Dean deeper and continues to pump his hand around Dean's cock, his thumb brushing over the head, careful not to over stimulate the sensitive tip. Cas wants Dean to come, to let go and shake and moan and gasp his name out loud, so he speeds up slowly, varying his grip until he finds just the right one that makes Dean's whole body tense, the word 'CAS' whispered out in a hiss with an exhaled breath.

Cas smiles against Dean's lips and kisses him again, toying with the other man's tongue for a moment, before whispering softly, his blue eyes on Dean's in the darkness.

"Come for me Dean."

* * * *

And it's really all it takes. Dean's head falls back on the pillow, eyes clenched shut as he feels his orgasm rushing over him, making him forget everything for a moment of white, hot bliss and the sweet whisper of Cas' voice close to his ear. When he opens his eyes again, his body is still shaking with satisfaction and Cas' hand is still holding him, gently stroking him through his climax. Dean blinks away the beads of sweat on his eyelashes and looks into Cas' heavy-lidded eyes, leaning forward to brush his lips against Cas'. His hand is still cupping the other man's cock through his pants and once the waves of pleasure slowly fade away, Dean stops kissing Cas. Lowering his head he nibbles at his neck and collarbone, his hands unbuttoning Castiel's jeans and hurriedly pulling them down. He doesn't waste time; he can see that Cas is close, that he too has wanted this for so long. He slides his hand inside Cas' boxers and pulls out his cock, softly stroking it with his fingertips and looking down at it with an open, intrigued expression on his heated face. Then he opens his lips and his tongue darts out to lick over the wet tip.

* * * *

Castiel's breath hisses in through clenched teeth, a sharp inhalation at how good it felt not to be confined, and even more, Dean's hands and tongue were now caressing him. His jaw falls open and a low moan escapes as Dean's finger stroke him, curiously playing and figuring it all out.

Cas' whole body tenses at the sensations that race up his spine and back down, helping to stoke the fire that was already a dull roar in his abdomen to an inferno. He whimpers slightly and his hips thrust up toward Dean, wanting release so badly it aches.

* * * *

Dean pulls back a bit, looking up at Cas, while his hand keeps stroking him, fingernails grazing over hot, soft flesh. Cas' face is flushed and he looks so absolutely beautiful, that Dean almost can't bear looking away. A few seconds pass before he leans back over Castiel's crotch, this time wrapping his lips around his cock and gently sucking, droplets of precome melting on his tongue, making Dean shiver in anticipation.

* * * *

Castiel’s legs shake slightly as he feels the head of his cock enveloped in hot wet heat. ‘Dean’s mouth..’, he thinks to himself, and the thought just makes him moan, eyes shutting as he lets himself relax into it, letting go of all the tensions he’d been holding. All the worries about Dean not wanting him, not letting him back into his life, they melt away as Dean’s warm tongue slides around the head of his cock, and Cas can’t help but gasp as he feels his orgasm building, threatening to crest and wash over him like a tidal wave.

“D-..Dean.”

* * * *

Dean pulls back slightly, his lips leaving Castiel's cock with a wet smacking sound, but his hand still wrapped around it, stroking him through his orgasm. Eventually he crawls back up, kissing his way up from the other man's neck over his chin until their lips meet in a lazy kiss. Dean can't wrap his head around what just happened yet, all he knows is that Cas is here, lying in his arms, kissing him and he's not leaving, not now. He kisses him again, his tongue touching Cas' and slowly he opens his eyes, looking at the man next to him who's looking back, watching him with so much adoration in his eyes that it makes Dean feel giddy and high.

* * * *

Cas feels it all at once, an overwhelming urge that hits him harder than anything he’s ever felt. He feels like he can’t breathe, he’s been holding his breath from not saying it, not speaking it out loud for fear of scaring Dean away. But in this moment, this post coital bliss that is perfect and dear and oh-so-right, those fears are dashed away by the soft kisses Dean is trailing along his nose, and the sighs that escape both of them in unison. So he says it, and the words are soft and strong at the same time, firm in knowing that he’s speaking the truth, but soft because Dean is so close he doesn’t need to do more than whisper, and the other man will hear him. His words break the quiet of the dark bedroom, but they stand out in the darkness like shining beacons, fireflies dancing from his lips to Dean’s ears, sparking in the black.

“I love you.”

* * * *

It’s nothing more than a whisper, a soft brush of air against his skin, and yet it shatters Dean’s whole world. He lies still for a moment, his mind racing, echoing Castiel’s words over and over and over and he closes his eyes, the fireworks exploding behind his lids making him dizzy. He takes a few shaky breaths, unable to word his feelings in this moment. He blinks a few times, trying to focus Cas’ face - so close, so tender - and he can’t take it anymore. He hates himself for not being strong enough, for the tears running down his cheeks and for his dependence on Castiel - but he can’t bring himself to care, not now… He tries to speak but all that’s coming over his lips are silent sobs and shaky breaths, so he presses forward, closer, closer until their bodies are entangled and intertwined and it feels like they’re one.

* * * *

Castiel frowns softly, hushing Dean with gentle whispers of ‘Hey… Hey Dean…’ before just falling silent and holding the crying man tighter, wrapped in his arms.  
That wasn’t the response he had been hoping for, but at least it was better than Dean up and running away, or telling him to leave again. Maybe it was just too much for him right now- Dean wasn’t really in a place to accept someone’s love anyway… What had he said when they first talked? ‘And how could anyone love me… when I hate myself so much’  
That probably still held true, and might for some time. Cas was just going to have to be patient with Dean, and after all, he’d waited his whole life thus far to find love- he could wait it out until Dean was ready to feel again. Until he finally felt he deserved to be loved again.

* * * *

They lie like this for what feels like hours, Dean crying in Castiel’s arms and the other man quietly talking to him, his voice soft and soothing. Finally, when dawn breaks and faint sunlight falls through the blinds, illuminating the room slowls, Dean stops crying and falls asleep, his body exhausted from the physical and emotional sensations of this night.

He wakes to the sound of soft breathing next to his ear and when he opens his puffy eyes, the first thing he sees is Cas. He’s still asleep, holding Dean in a tight embrace, his nose and lips pressed against Dean’s cheek. Dean shifts carefully, turning his head to face Castiel, taking in his clear-cut features, his straight nose, the slight stubble and his slightly parted lips. He raises a hand, brushing his index finger over Castiel’s lower lip, before leaning in and kissing him gently. He still feels bad for not saying anything to Cas’ confession yet… all he can hope for is for Cas to understand and to give him time, as pathetic and dramatic it may sound…

* * * *

Cas shifts in his sleep, but doesn’t wake up despite Dean’s gentle touches. He was exhausted, the night before having been an emotional and physical wreck for him as well. When he woke up he would surely be regretting getting in that fight, at least from his body’s stand point. For now though he slept, dreamless and deep, his arms occasionally tightening around Dean reflexively whenever Dean would move, then relaxing again once he stilled.

~

That afternoon, somewhere around 3pm, Cas woke up on his own, startled out of sleep by something. His eyes snap open and he realized where he is, and last night’s memories come flooding back, along with a killer headache.  
He had lied to Dean, out right lied, about the community service and why he had to stay. Now he had to figure out how to keep Dean from figuring it out- he couldn’t go back to the Helpline, they had told him that they could barely keep on the people they had, and the only reason they took in community service people was because it was cheap as hell.  
He would have to find another job, a night job, somewhere close but far enough away that Dean wouldn’t find out about it. He would have to drive to Wichita and see if any bars needed help- he was decent at mopping floors and restocking shelves, and better than most at mixing drinks.

* * * *

By the time Cas wakes up, Dean had been awake for several hours, staring alternately at the ceiling and down at Castiel’s calm face. When the other man opens his eyes, Dean is looking at him, blinking in surprise at the bright blue orbs staring back at him without any warning.

“Hey”, he says quietly, his throat dry and constricted. He’s trying to find the right words but there simply isn’t anything he could say that wouldn’t sound completely ridiculous in this situation. So he moves in once more and brushes his lips against Cas’, carefully, scared that he’d broken something by not reciprocating to Castiel’s confession.

* * * *

“…Afternoon, handsome.”

Cas kisses Dean back gently, smiles softly and then pulls his arms back from around Dean, both of them tingling with pins and needles from having fallen asleep. He stretches and then rolls over onto his back before sitting up slowly, groaning at the pain in his head.

“My head is killing me…”

He rubs his temples and sighs, knowing he did it to himself.

“Dean, do you have any advil or asprin or fucking morphine?”

* * * *

Dean follows Castiel’s movements, sitting up and carefully swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, standing up slowly. “In the kitchen”, he says, not without a tense undertone in his voice. He can’t tell Cas that meds are one of the many, dangerous things in his apartment, one of the things he could actually kill himself with. So he walks around the bed, standing in front of Cas in only his boxers and bends down, tilting Castiel’s head up and kissing him gently. “Stay here, I’ll get it for you.” He kisses him again, softly smiling against his lips, before pulling back and leaving the bedroom. He quickly gets two aspirins and searches his fridge for food but only finds a carton of milk and some cheerios. Returning to the bedroom a few minutes later, he carries a small tray with two bowls of cereal, two mugs of coffee, sugar and milk. “I didn’t know how you like your coffee”, he says as Cas looks up at him and he feels his cheeks blushing. This is so domestic, so… normal… he smiles to himself, sitting down next to Cas, the tray settled steadily on their legs.

* * * *

Cas smiles and takes a quick sip of the hot coffee and downs the asprin. Better to get it started dissolving now rather than later.

“Thanks.”

He smiles at Dean and then looks down at the breakfast again. It was adorable that Dean had put this together for them, endearing even. Dean was full of small surprises, and Cas just wanted to keep discovering more and more, each little piece of the puzzle that was Dean fitting into place as Cas turned it over to see what was on the other side.

“This is really sweet…. thank you…”

He smiles again and makes his coffee- tons of cream, a teaspoon of sugar, and mix well while blowing on it. He didn’t like hot drinks, preferring his liquids tepid to freezing. Iced coffee was a rare but enjoyable treat for Cas. But this was good too, and he was drinking it with Dean on Dean’s bed in Dean’s apartment- so it really couldn’t get any better than this.

“I don’t have work until 8…. Did you have any plans that I crashed for today?”

* * * *

Dean takes a sip of his black coffee, watching Cas mixing his and trying to memorize just how much cream and sugar he likes. When Cas asks about his plans, Dean just shrugs, not sure what he should say.

‘If I had my way I’d be dead by now’, he thinks.

“I didn’t exactly plan anything”, he says instead, looking up into Cas’ eyes and smiling softly “I just want to spend more time with you.”

* * * *

Castiel smiles and slowly eats his cheerios, speaking around a mouthful.

“Then maybe we should just stay in, watch bad daytime television,…spend more time in bed.”

He looks up from his bowl and smirks, giving Dean a lewd wink, before going back to his cereal. Cas finishes slowly, enjoying every bite like he’s never had cheerios before, even though technically they’re relatively plain and not all that tasty. Everything just seems better around Dean, even food, which is just weird.

Cas tries not to think about it though, accepting that this must be what love is like for everyone- a serious rush that makes everything in your life infinitely better.

* * * *

Dean chokes on his breakfast and blushes - full-on fucking blushes - at Castiel’s words. He murmurs a rushed “Yeah… yeah, I’d like that”, before looking down on his bowl. He notices that he spilled some of the milk on his stomach and his boxers and tries to cover it up as good as possible, shooting quick, nervous glances at Castiel. But he can’t stop his mind from going back to the night before, to Cas touching him and kissing him literally everywhere… and to Dean touching him back, wrapping his lips around him and bringing him to ecstasy. He blushes even more, feeling his morning glory pressing against his leg.

* * * *

Cas notices, of course he does. How could he not when Dean was turning 30 different shades of red right in front of him and fidgeting like a mad man? Castiel tilts his head to the side and slowly smiles.

“Something wrong Dean?”

He puts his bowl down on the tray and then takes Dean’s bowl from him as well, gently, so as not to spill any more milk. Cas smirks at the sight of Dean’s lap, soaked with large spots of what should have been his breakfast.

“….Heh…. Maybe we should shower first.”

* * * *

Dean bites his lip, before looking up out of lidded eyes and nodding his head ‘yes’. He puts the tray on the bed behind them and stands up, looking down at Castiel, who’s still grinning up at him like a cheshire cat. Why the hell was it that Dean felt like a fucking virgin or Little Red Riding Hood all the time, while Cas seemed to know exactly what to do and how to touch and what to say to lure Dean further into the forbidden forest? This wasn’t Dean’s first affair. Hell, this thing between them wasn’t even coming close to the word ‘affair’ anymore. Cas said he loved him. And Dean wants to believe him. Cas had always been honest with him, why should he stop now? Why should he lie to him about something so important? While Dean is brooding about all this, Cas has stood up, stepping closer to him and putting his hands on Dean’s hips. Once again they’re standing in front of each other, Dean looking down on the slightly smaller man and all of the sudden he feels less nervous, less afraid. “We have to get you naked first”, he says, returning Castiel’s smile and cocking an eyebrow at him, before he lets his hands travel over the other mans upper body. Sometime last night Cas had stripped off his shirt so all he was wearing by now was a white undershirt and his jeans. Reaching the hem of his shirt, Dean tugs it upwards, motions Cas to lift his arms, until he can pull it over his head and toss it on to the ground. He slides to his knees then, unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down, making Cas step out of them. There are faint, red pressure marks on Cas’ skin from where he had lain down on the seam of his jeans and Dean lets his fingers ghost over them, humming approvingly, when Cas shivers under his soft touches.

* * * *

Cas blushes as Dean touches his skin, enjoying the way his fingers feel brushing over his sensitive hips. He reaches out to run a hand through Dean's hair, loving how fluffy it feels, how the strands bounce right back up after his hand is through them. Dean's fingers on his skin are warm and soft, and Cas shuts his eyes to block out every other thing, wanting to savor this moment and lock it into memory forever.  
He'd never really had this, this kind of simple togetherness where just being in one another's presence was enough. Of course, Cas had seen movies and read love stories and watched his Mother's soap operas when he was a kid. He knew what love was supposed to look like, from the Hollywood perspective, but somehow this was better. A lazy Friday afternoon, undressing each other for a shower, marveling at skin texture and bone structure and everything in between.  
He smiles softly, his eyes watering slightly as Dean leans in to press gentle kisses to his flat stomach.

“Heh... tickles...”

If he had known how much Dean was struggling with trusting him in that moment, he would have felt sick to his stomach for lying to him, even this once, even if he had the best reason in the world for doing it. But Castiel didn't know, so his afternoon was nothing but sweet words and gentle caresses, his mind filled with nothing but thoughts of 'I am so lucky'.

* * * *

Dean practically drags Castiel in the shower about 10 minutes of kissing and touching later. They both step out of their boxers, stumbling inside the narrow shower. The water is cold when Dean turns it on and they both gasp for air, Dean mumbling a "Stupid fucking shower" that makes Cas laugh until his sides hurt. Then they press against each other, warm water pouring down on them, washing away sweat and milk and running down their faces, making them splutter as it drips into their open mouths as they're kissing each other hungrily. The shower curtain sticks to Dean's side but as nasty the feeling is, Dean doesn't care. Not when he's got Cas pressed against the tile wall, his knee spreading Castiel's legs and rubbing against his balls and the underside of his cock.

* * * *

The cold tile wall behind his back is a sharp contrast to the hot body pressed to his front, and Cas is dying because of it. It feels so good to have Dean pressed against him, his own hips riding Dean’s strong thigh, hands clamoring over each other’s bodies like jungle gyms. Castiel can’t get enough of this, of touching and feeling, exploring Dean’s body like it’s the first he’s ever seen naked, and the last he ever will.  
Cas wraps one hand around the back of Dean’s neck and brings him in for a soft kiss, his eyelashes heavy with water droplets, blue eyes standing out against the black hair and white walls.

“I love you Dean…”

It’s not like last night, where it was this shocking revelation and there was nothing but silence and sweet touching after an explosion of passion. This time he says it with a smile on his face, happy and glowing, Cas brushing his hands through Dean’s wet spiky hair, sending a spray of water off that hits him in the face. Cas laughs and squints one eye shut, dodging his head away from the shower he just instigated.

* * * *

Dean smiles back at him, still a little amazed by the cheery casual mood. He raises both hands to catch some water and opens them over Castiel's head, pouring the water over his face, making him splutter and shake his head. Castiel's words echo in his head and Dean fills his whole body trembling with bliss and desire. He puts his good hand on Castiel's shoulder, determinately turning him around and pressing him back against the wall. He starts kissing the back of his neck, breathing in his distinctive scent, before kissing down his spine, stopping to caress his shoulderblades, his upper back and finally his lower back. His hands lie on Castiel's hips, holding him in place, as he keeps kissing further down, ghosting his lips over his butt cheeks.

* * * *

Cas blushes, having never done this before. He was always the lead when it came to his one night stands- wanting to get it over and done with. There’d never been a chance to give up control like this, and he’d never wanted to before either. But with Dean it was different. Cas could just let go of the reins and let Dean take over, trusting he would guide them both to a place where neither would be in a place to worry or fret.  
He shuts his eyes and tries his hardest not to laugh whenever it tickles, but softly moans as Dean’s hands grip his hips- he loved the way those hands felt holding him tight.

Cas bites his lower lip and places his hands against the wall, flat and still, right under his chest against the tile.

* * * *

Dean stops for a moment. His heart's hammering against his ribcage and skipping several beats as Dean's tongue darts out, licking over the wet skin of Cas' bottom and down his upper leg, halting to suck a dark hickey just below his butt cheek. Dean reaches for a bottle of shower gel and coats his fingers in the slick, whiteish cream. He stands up slowly, letting his fingers follow the way his mouth had taken back up in reverse. He spreads the gel on every part of Cas' body he can reach, leaning forward to touch his chest and stomach and finally his cock, wrapping the fingers of one hand around it and slowly starts pumping.

* * * *

Cas’ hips arch back, thrusting his butt against Dean’s hips, grinding all on their own. His hands slide up the wall, fingers gripping the slippery tile as well as they can. He gasps as Dean grips him, pumping his hand in a dangerous and delicious rhythm over his cock. Castiel whimpers and hangs his head, trying to breathe in the mist of the shower, the air thick with steam and the smell of the shower gel.

His body reacts so quickly, it’s almost instant how hard he gets in Dean’s hand, throbbing to life under his careful and talented fingers.

“D..Dean..”

Cas whispers his name as he leans back, pressing his hips back even further against Dean’s body while arching his head back over his shoulder and bringing Dean’s head in for a kiss with one of his hands. The kiss is messy, sloppy, the angle awkward, but Cas is too busy staring into Dean’s eyes to care, his own half shut with lust.

* * * *

"I've got you, Cas", Dean breathes against his lips. He tightens his grip, his thrusts getting faster and faster, driving Cas towards his orgasm. Once he feels him tensing, Dean quickly pulls back his hand, dragging it over Cas' stomach and chest, smiling at the low frustrated groan of the other man. "You don't really think I'm done with you yet, do you?", he growls into his ear, surprised by his own forcefulness.

* * * *

Cas whimpers as Dean pulls his hand away, grinding his hips back against Dean’s.

“D..don’t stop..”

He turns around in the limited shower space and grabs Dean’s face with both of his hands for a heated kiss. Just as Dean’s hips start thrusting against his, Cas pulls away with a chuckle. It’s low and in the back of his throat, teasing. Dean’s eyes widen, slightly worried, but before he can say anything Cas sinks to his knees in the tub, Dean’s shoulders blocking most of the shower water from falling on him. He smirks up at Dean as he wraps his hands around the back of Dean’s hips, gripping his buttocks and pulling him forward, until Cas’ face is right next to Dean’s hard cock.  
Cas smiles up at Dean once more before flicking his eyes down to the task at hand. His eyes become hooded, half closed as he takes in what he couldn’t really see in the darkness before. Dean is gorgeous, Cas knew that, but he didn’t know that he also had freckles everywhere…  
Cas smiles and leans forward to kiss those freckles, starting on his hips and thighs and working in, to gently lick and kiss and suck along his length to the head, where he quickly opens his mouth wider and rolls his tongue around it, tasting warm water and Deandeandean. Cas shuts his eyes against the water rolling down his forehead and slowly slides his head foreward, taking Dean’s cock in, one slow inch at a time.

* * * *

Dean's good hand reaches out to grab Castiel's head, curling his fingers in the dark hair to steady himself and simultaneously hold Cas as close as possible. His other arm dangles loosely at his side, the gash on the inside still wrapped in a bandage. He's change the bandage soon, as it's completely soaked by now, but Dean doesn't care about that at the moment. All he knows is that Cas' lips are wrapped around his cock, his tongue and teeth teasing every inch and making him fall apart incredibly fast.

* * * *

Cas slowly works his way down Dean’s cock, being careful not to gag himself. It’d been some time since he’s done this, and he was really out of practice, so he wasn’t able to deep throat him like he wanted to. Cas instead settles for bringing one hand back around to wrap around Dean’s shaft and pump in time with his mouth.

Blue eyes look up from under dark lashes as Cas hollows his cheeks out, sucking Dean down once again with a hum vibrating through his cock.

* * * *

Dean's not able to keep his eyes open or to keep watching Castiel like he really wants to. He lets his head fall back, bumping against the wall with a dull thump, as a low moan escapes his opened lips. He'd tried to hold back, ashamed of the sounds he's making, but he's too far gone now. It's been months, hell, years since he'd gotten a thorough blowjob like this, nothing rushed and impersonal in the backyard of some skanky bar or in the back of his car. Although the thought alone of Cas' pale skin on the dark leather seats of his Impala turns him on like nothing else. Then Cas does this thing with his tongue again and sucks at the tip of his cock and Dean can feel that he's close. "C-Cas...", he gasps out in between shaky moans, his fingers tugging desperately at Cas' hair "Cas, I'm gonna..."

* * * *

Cas was ready for this, or so he thought, but the image of Dean shaking under his finger tips is too much. He reaches down and wraps his hand around his own cock, stroking hard and fast as he continues to suck on Dean, moaning around the cock in his mouth. Cas lets Dean pull on his hair, pull him closer so that Dean slides deeper into his mouth, down his throat with each thrust of Dean’s hips.

Cas feels himself tense as pleasure rushes over him and he makes a choked sound around Dean’s cock, his hand gripping a little tighter as he comes hard onto the white porcelain of the tub. It’s quickly washed away by the water raining down on them, but Cas is too intent on Dean to notice.

* * * *

When Cas comes and his mouth stills for a moment, his hand gripping him even tighter than before, Dean can't hold back anymore. Without being able to warn Cas again, he thrusts his hips forward, his cock buried deep in his mouth as Dean comes with a low cry. He sinks back against the tile wall - the jet of water now pelting down on both of their shaking bodies - and for a few moments he just breathes. When the waves of his orgasm slowly subside, Dean sinks down on his knees, joining Cas on the bottom of the tub, wrapping his trembling arms around him and holding him close, kissing his cheeks, his eyelashes, the bridge of his nose and his lips. "Sorry", he whispers, as he tastes himself on Castiel's lips and he blushes at the thought of coming in the other man's mouth.

* * * *

“…For what?”

Cas tilts his head to one side and frowns, looking adorably bewildered. He kisses Dean again and smiles.

“You’re cute.”

Cas runs a hand over Dean’s cheekbone, loving how angular and gorgeous his face is. Castiel was constantly finding new things to love about Dean, from his freckled everything to the soft sound he made when coming. He smirks slightly and stands up, offering his hand to Dean.

* * * *

Dean blushes and takes Castiel's hand, standing up slowly. He's still a little shaky on his legs, leaning carefully against Cas to steady himself. They finish their 'shower' and when they step out, Dean wraps the both of them in a large towel, softly rubbing it over Cas face, his neck and chest. "You're really good at... that...", Dean says quietly, pressing his lips against Cas' forehead and then looking down, smiling at him "Geez, I could use a cold shower after this shower!"

* * * *

Cas smiles, looking a little like a kid with the towel covering his head.

“I’m glad you think so…I’m…really out of practice actually. It’s been a while.”

‘a really fucking long while’, he thinks, but doesn’t say it. It’s embarrassing enough to admit it to himself, but to say it out loud? No thanks.

Cas kisses Dean again and then walks, naked, back to Dean’s room. He realizes he doesn’t have any clean clothes with him and purses his lips, thinking. He could go back to his apartment and put on clean clothes there, or see if anything of Dean’s fit. The idea of wearing Dean’s clothes was actually a turn on, and he blushes as his cock stiffens slightly, despite having just had its fun.

* * * *

Dean chuckles at that, following Cas into the bedroom, not even trying to hide him staring at his ass.

"Good... I really don't wanna think about you with someone else", he then says, a little surprised by his openness, his cheeks flushing even more when Cas turns around to look at him, half amused, half touched. Dean licks his lips nervously and then walks over to his wardrobe. Pulling out an old Zeppelin shirt for himself and a plain blue shirt for Cas, two pairs of jeans and underwear. Grinning at the other man, he throws the clothes in his direction.

* * * *

Cas catches the clothes and pulls them on, everything just slightly too big on him, the shirt loose and the pants hanging low under his hip bones.

“Um, Dean you have a belt?”

He blushes, a little embarrassed that Dean’s clothes didn’t fit him as well as he hoped. His hip bones have always stuck out more than he’d like, even though he’s never been skinny, just leanly muscled. Cas walks back over to Dean and wraps his arms around Dean’s waist from behind, leaning in to kiss the back of his neck and smell his hair. He lets out a soft sigh and chuckles.

“Mm…”

* * * *

Dean shivers slightly at the gentle embrace and Cas' breath on his neck.

"Uhm... sure...", he says, a little distracted and for a moment he's not even sure what the question was to begin with. He raises Cas' hand up to his lips and kisses it softly, his gaze dropping on his left hand. "Shit", he curses, raising his own arm "I forgot the fucking bandage..."

He sighs and steps out of Cas' embrace, walking over to the wardrobe, pulling out his smallest belt and handing it over to the other man, before sitting down on the bed and tugging experimentally at the soaked bandage.

* * * *

Cas lifts the shirt up and bites the hem so he can see what he’s doing while putting the belt on. He follows Dean to the bed and smiles, which just looks goofy with his teeth biting down on the edge of a bunch of fabric.

“ ‘all feeh eet”

He mumbles through the cloth, then laughs and drops the shirt out of his mouth.

“I’ll fix it….Do you have any gauze?”

He winces and looks over at Dean. Of course he does- Dean’s a cutter. If there’s one thing a cutter would have in great supply, it would be antiseptic, gauze and bandages. He leans down and kisses Dean’s forehead, quietly whispering ‘I’ll get it’, before walking out of the room to the bathroom to find some.

* * * *

Dean freezes. For a moment there's a flash of something in Cas' eyes, something that Dean didn't want to see again. It looks like pity. And Dean hates pity. Cas leaves the bedroom and Dean slumps forward, resting his head on his hands, one side of the bandage hanging loosely off his arm. When Cas returns with gauze and a fresh bandage, Dean starts quietly unrolling the wet bandage off his arm, carefully avoiding Cas' gaze.

* * * *

It hadn’t been pity that was in Cas’ eyes…it was fear. He didn’t want Dean to think about what he’d done, how he’d cut and hurt himself over and over and over. Castiel wanted Dean to move on from that, to get healthy, to heal.

Cas is quiet as well when he returns, working efficiently to remove the old bandage, dry off the stitched up wound, apply some antiseptic, and then rewrap it. He’s careful, his small hands working nimbly to get the work done. When it’s done Cas leans down and makes eye contact with Dean before leaning in and kissing him full on the mouth. There’s nothing in the kiss but softness, sweetness that moves into firm pressure and a gently lick from Cas’ tongue.

“Let’s get out of here for a while, hm?”

Cas wanted to take him out, away from this apartment and the memories that still flooded the couch.

* * * *

Dean returns the kiss, a bit reluctant at first, then leaning into it, closing his eyes and breathing in Castiel’s scent. He feels better, when he finally pulls back again, brushing a hand over Cas’ cheek and neck, pressing another soft kiss on his lips.

“Yeah… I need some air”, Dean agrees and smiles at the other man.

They finish getting dressed and leave the apartment about 10 minutes later. For a while they’re just walking, slowly and silently, taking in the warm afternoon air. It’s sunny but not too hot, considering it’s late July, so it doesn’t take long until Dean hitches up the sleeves of his longsleeve, brushing a hand over his slightly sweaty forehead. They reach the pedestrian bridge over Cottonwood River around half an hour later and Dean - grinning back at Castiel - leads him around the barrier of bushes and trees, down a small ramp that leads them right under the bridge to a small sandspit. Taking off his shoes, Dean walks into the shallow water, sighing softly at the pleasant cooling sensation.

* * * *

Cas grins and follows suit, looking a little comical as he hurries to take off his shoes and roll up his pants. He wades in after Dean, stepping carefully over the rocks in the sandy creek bed.

“This is nice… how did you know about this place?”

Cas wasn’t familiar with a lot of Emporia still, having spent most of his time around the main part of town. Spending time with Dean was going to be even better than he anticipated, if Dean could show him little spots like this. Maybe it was from Dean’s childhood… actually Cas didn’t even know if this was where Dean grew up- he just knew that near here was where Dean lost his parents…

* * * *

Returning Cas’ smile - and secretly happy, that he seemed to like where Dean had brought him - he walks in further, until the water reaches his knees and soaks his jeans.

“Sammy and I always came here… with my dad. He tried to teach us fishing but we sucked. So the first few weeks we ended up buying fish instead and brag in front of our mom - she knew of course… but it was nice… good times…”

Dean takes another deep breath, taking in the clear air around here and looking down in the water surrounding his naked feet. He doesn’t realize that he just told Cas about his parents, without feeling guilty and desperate immediately…

* * * *

Castiel smiles softly and wades further in to stand beside Dean and wrap his arms around Dean’s waist from the side, leaning in to peck a kiss on his cheek.

“Sounds like a very nice memory… Did you do that every summer, or did you do different things? Anna and I tried to build a treehouse one summer… didn’t go so well.”

He lays his head down on Dean’s shoulder with a contented sigh.

“It fell apart and we both fell out of the tree… Dad was pretty pissed.”

* * * *

Dean shakes his head, resting his hands on Castiel’s arms around his waist.

“Like I said… we were awful at fishing… the older we got, the more we did on our own or with friends so…”

He falls silent for a moment, smiling at Cas talking about his sister.

“He was probably worried about you…”, he says but it’s more of a question than a statement. Cas hadn’t talked much about his family, only that his sister had moved out and his mom had died… he turns around in Cas’ arms, raising his hands to cup Cas’ face and kiss him gently. He wants to know more about Cas, wants to know everything…

* * * *

 

He kisses Dean back and then chuckles, shaking his head.

“Not really… he was more worried we’d get hurt and then he’d have to take us to the hospital, which meant his time and money spent on something that wasn’t him.”

There’s a tinge of bitterness in Cas’ voice as he speaks, and he’s quiet for a minute, before he laughs and looks down at his feet.

“What was that… minnows?”

There are tiny fish swimming around their feet, nibbling at their toes, curious about the intruder into their world.

* * * *

Dean frowns at Cas’ words. Both he and Cas had to suffer so much pain with their families and it hurts to know that they’re both broken in the same way. He looks down when Cas starts chuckling, a smile spreading on his own lips.

“Yeah, well… seems like the great-great-great-grandchildren of the fish we didn’t catch came to mock me”, Dean says and shakes his head laughing.

* * * *

Castiel almost giggles, covering his mouth and then smirking before speaking in an ‘innocent’ voice.  
“Aw, but look Dean! They love you!” 

The fish were swimming around both of their ankles but seemed especially fascinated with Dean’s feet, possibly because of the few patches of dead skin from the healing cuts.

“….Will you tell me more about Sammy?… I want to meet him, but I also want to hear about your childhood… your favorite places and foods and memories…”

He brushes a hand along Dean’s cheek, loving how the sunlight was reflecting off the water to bounce up and dance in broken pieces over Dean’s skin, highlighting his freckles.

* * * *

Dean rolls his eyes at Cas taunting him, then leans into the touch of his hand on his face.

“Mhh~… sure”, he mumbles, turning his head so that he can kiss his palm and look up into his bright, blue eyes “What do you wanna know?”

He avoids answering his question about meeting Sam. Dean’s not sure if he can do this, not now… it all happened so fast, Dean barely had the time to think about him and Cas… together… and what all of this meant…

They spent the rest of the day together, walking down the riverbank, telling stories about their childhoods, about their siblings and friends, their high school and college years. Cas tells Dean about his boat, that it’s almost finished and that he can’t wait to finally launch it. Back in his neighborhood, Dean takes Cas to the carhouse around the corner to finally show him his baby and even though Cas had admitted, that he wasn’t really into cars, Dean was glad to see that he actually seemed to be impressed with his baby. They order pizza and eat on his bed, watching some action movie on TV, before Cas has to leave for work. They kiss and Dean can still taste the anchovies from Cas’ pizza on his tongue hours later.


	5. Chapter 5

It goes on like this; Castiel going to work at night, coming by Dean’s house in the morning, kissing him as if they hadn’t seen each other for months. On Sunday night, when they’re spread out naked and bathed in sweat, Dean reaches over to pick something up from the nightstand, taking Cas’ hand and closing his fingers around a small, cool item. Neither of them sleeps that night, after Cas opens his hand and finds the key to Dean’s apartment. Dean still hasn’t done anything about Sam and he’s grateful that Cas doesn’t ask again. He wants Cas to meet his brother, can’t bear the thought of Cas being his secret, something forbidden and wrong.

It’s early Friday morning when Dean wakes from soft kisses on the back of his neck. He turns his head sleepily, looking up at Castiel’s smiling face out of hooded eyes. Cas is still wearing his clothes - black pants and dark blue sweater and Dean grabs the hem of his shirt to pull him down into a lazy kiss.

“I missed you”, he mutters and brushes his tongue over Castiel’s chapped lips. He shifts until he’s lying flat on his back, pulling Cas down on him. Wrapping his legs around him, he grinds his hips up against Cas’, moaning at the friction. Cas returns the kiss with a soft sigh, slipping his tongue into Dean’s mouth. Dean’s awake now, no longer tired or grouchy. Cas is still way too overdressed in his opinion, so he starts working on that, unbuttoning his shirt slowly, before sliding it over his shoulders and tossing it off the bed, looking into his eyes all the time. The undershirt follows quickly and Dean leans up to kiss Castiel’s chest, his lips lingering to suck at his nipples. His no longer bandaged arm slides down Cas’ body, his hand cupping the palpable bulge in his pants, making him gasp in suprise. They kiss again and Dean feels Cas pressing against his hand, leaning in for more; more touching, kissing, more of Dean. And suddenly the words are there, on the tip of his tongue, quiet and careful but spoken with such determination, that Cas doesn’t even have to ask if he’s serious.

“Fuck me, Cas.”

* * * *

The past two weeks have been heaven to Castiel. He honestly can’t remember the last time he felt so utterly happy with almost everything in his world. Dean’s presence seems to make all the little bullshit day to day things fade into the background, like they just don’t matter nearly as much as they used to. The sex they have is fantastic, all kisses and caresses, mouths and hands and grinding. Cas doesn’t want to push Dean though, so they never go past oral, and he’s not even disappointed by that.  
When Dean gives him the key to his apartment, Cas feels a million emotions. Happy, loved, relieved…and sad, guilty, and disgusted with himself.  
Dean trusted him enough to give him a key to his apartment, to let him into his world, and Castiel was still lying to him. Every day.  
Every day when he went off to work he would run home to his apartment and change into tight jeans and a tank top, spike his hair up and then it was off to a sleazy bar on Route 35 about 30 miles out of town towards Wichita. He had landed a job there as a bartender, and was making enough to pay for his apartment plus a little to save up from the tips he made. Cas was finding he actually really enjoyed his job, even though he thought he would hate all the interaction with drunken strangers. In reality, almost everyone who came into the bar was broken somehow, needing to drink their sorrows away, and talk to a stranger about what was going on in their lives. The only difference he could see between the helpline and the bar was that here he could cut someone off from destroying themselves further with the alcohol- by either his kind words, or by the bartender’s right to say enough is enough. On the helpline there was nothing you could do but talk, and even then the person could just hang up. Being surrounded by all the alcohol and drunken people did remind him of his Mother for the first week, and that was fucking hard. Eventually though he was able to put that aside- none of these people were his Mother…and it wasn’t his fault if they drunk themselves to death. All he could do was offer an open ear and a kind word, and more often than not, that was all anyone needed.  
The downside was that at the end of the night, at 3am once the bar was closed, cleaned up, restocked and mopped, he would have to race home to shower off the booze and stench of sweaty bodies and bad perfume so that Dean wouldn’t suspect anything. He’d made the mistake of not showering the first night, and Dean’s eyebrows hit his hairline, his nose crinkled at the foul odor emanating from Castiel’s clothes and hair and skin. Cas had lied and said he’d gone out for a drink at a bar around midnight with his co-workers before returning to work. Dean had accepted it, hesitantly. Since then Cas had been more careful- he always showered, and always changed into new clothes before coming over to Dean’s.

It was just another lie on top of all the others he was having to tell. Whenever Dean asked about his calls he would tell a story about whoever he’d talked to that night, being careful not to slip up and say anything about the person’s appearance or how sad they looked. Dean would thread his fingers in between Castiel’s and give him a soft ‘I’m so proud of you’ smile, and Castiel’s heart would break just a little- it was all lies.

He couldn’t stop though, no matter how guilty he felt about it all. Dean had his heart and he couldn’t back away from that, not now, not after finally finding out what all those stupid love songs and fairytales were about. Dean was everything, and he would do anything to stay with him. Anything.

So that morning when he crawled into bed with Dean and they begin to slowly touch one another, his mind did what it always did, and let go of the night’s worries, the guilt and shame and anger at himself. He let go of it all and focused on Dean. On Dean’s body and smile, the way his eyes fluttered shut and his chest rose and fell as they kissed so fucking hard, on how he wound his legs around Cas’ hips and pulled him in close for more.

And then Dean surprised him, and asked him one question, two words- but all Cas heard was “Make love to me Castiel.”

Cas searched Dean’s green eyes for a moment with his own striking blue before nodding slowly, kissing him once more, and reaching into the bedside table for the lube.

* * * *

Sex is different with Cas, Dean realizes when the other man looks down at him, face flushed and eyes clouded with lust. Cas had listened to his problems, offered a helping hand, even when Dean had still been ‘Alex’, just another suicidal nutjob with an inferiority complex. Cas had saved his life at least twice and Cas had been there for Dean, when he had needed someone to lean on the most. And Cas loves him. Dean shivers at the thought, his eyes fluttering closed as Cas’ hands roam his body, drawing soft sighs from his opened lips. With a swift movement, Dean rolls Cas over, sitting down carefully on his lap. His fingers open the button of his pants, pulling them down and tossing them of the be without a big fuss. Dean leans over Cas’ body, his hips pressing down against Cas’. Then he hooks his fingers inside Castiel’s boxers and seconds later they follow the rest of his clothes on the ground. Straddling the older man’s legs, Dean bends down to wrap his lips around him, licking and sucking him until his cock is achingly hard. He doesn’t say a word when he gets up and pulls down his own shorts, a look of sheer arousal on his face, before climbing back on the bed and crawling over Cas, rubbing his pelvis against his. He’s hard too, has been for a while now, waiting desperately for Cas to come back home. He’s addicted to his kisses, to his touch, the way he breathes his name and the way he looks at him like he’s the only thing that matters.

* * * *

Dean had only gotten better in the two weeks they’d spent together- now every single touch sent electric sparks up Cas’ spine, and Dean’s lips wrought deep moans from the back of his throat.  
He throbbed now, wanting release so badly already, but Cas shoves that aside for now. Now all attention is on Dean, on making Dean ready for this, making him whine and moan and beg for it.  
Cas pops the lid of the lube and coats three fingers with it before tossing it to the side quickly. He leans down and kisses Dean slowly, distracting him from the awkwardness that always occurs right at the beginning of this particular act. He slowly trails his hand down, strokes Dean’s cock a few times, focusing on the head for extra torture, before moving on. His fingers trail down and apply gentle pressure so as not to tickle, tracing Dean’s hole.  
Castiel waits until the initial shock of someone down there wears off then, very carefully, he pushes one finger inside Dean, swallowing the gasp the man makes at the intrusion. He adds a second once he feels Dean relax around the first, and then so achingly slowly starts to fuck Dean with his fingers, curling them and straightening them out, changing the angle until it feels just right and he can get as deep inside Dean as his knuckles will let him.

“Okay Dean?”

The words are whispered against Dean’s lips, Castiel’s eyes searching his to make sure everything was still good and there wasn’t any pain.

* * * *

There was pain. Of course there was. Dean's never touched himself like this, let alone somebody else. It was unfamiliar and weird and unpleasant at first - but this was Cas. And Dean knew it would get better, it had to... His fingers grip Castiel's shoulders tight, nails scraping over the hot skin as he writhes under Cas' thorough motions and feathery kisses. And then the tips of Castiel's fingers touch something deep inside him, graze over it only for a second, and Dean arches up with a deep moan, pressing his lower body closer to Cas, wanting, needing him to touch him again. He lets his hands fall down to grab Castiel's arm, gasping his name and "more" and "please".

* * * *

A flicker of a grin passes over Cas’ face, he knows all too well what that was. So he does it again, thrusting his fingers back inside and searching for the bundle of nerves that would cause Dean so wicked pleasure. He kisses along Dean’s neck, sucking gently and nipping in time with his fingers’ curling and thrusting.

“Like this?”

He scissors his fingers apart to stretch Dean on the way out, then thrusts back in slow and languid, making sure not to hurt him, before doing it again. This torture continues, Cas’ mouth moving down Dean’s body until it envelops the head of his cock, licking and sucking gently. Cas adds a third finger, very careful not to push too hard or fast, gauging Dean’s reactions with his gasps and the way his breath hitches in his chest.

* * * *

Dean has no words. He's barely able to breath, too busy with moaning and crying out as pleasure hit him wave after wave. It's indiscribable how he feels in this moment. Cas is over him, around him, inside him... he envelopes him completely, tasting his moans like they're chocolate or honey and giving, giving, giving... Dean's cock is throbbing with a yet unknown urgency and when Cas closes his lips around him, Dean thinks he might just come from this alone. So he reaches out after a few more seconds of hot, wet tightness, dragging Cas up slowly to pull him into a feverish kiss.

"Cas... Cas, do it.. do it now, please... I need you inside me", he pants, his breath hitching with every word.

* * * *

Dean’s words make his cock jump, throb with urgent need, and it takes all his concentration to fumble for a condom in the bedside drawer, but the minute he finds one and pulls it out Dean stops him, hand on his.

“No... Cas... I wanna feel you...”

Castiel swallows thickly and tosses the condom to the side before leaning down to kiss Dean roughly, claiming his mouth completely, while reaching for the lube blindly with one hand. Cas breaks the kiss and sits up, kneeling in between Dean’s legs, and pops the top of the lube again to quickly coat himself. Cas wraps an arm around Dean’s hips from underneath, clumsily hauling him up a few inches so his ass is seated on Cas’ legs. He makes eye contact with Dean and breathlessly chokes out, ‘tell me if it hurts’, before angling himself just right, and pushing inside of Dean slowly.  
Cas can’t help himself and his head drops at the instant vice like heat, the pressure so intense his brain stops everything for a moment while he adjusts to being inside someone again. He opens his eyes and watches as his cock slips deeply into Dean and a feral growl escapes his throat and he has to physically clench the muscles of his stomach to stop himself from thrusting the rest of the way in- he doesn’t want to hurt Dean. Cas breathes through his nose for a moment, letting the sensations fade back to a dull roar, waiting for Dean’s nod or a verbal cue that it’s okay to continue.

* * * *

And then Cas splits him open. Dean cries out when the head of his cock breaches the first barrier, sinking inside him and filling him with nothing but fire and heat and pain. He sees stars for a few breathless seconds, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to just breathe again. Cas stills for a moment and Dean's grateful for it. He digs his fingernails into Castiel's hips, not sure if he's pushing or holding him him place or dragging him closer. In his mind there's an explosion of fear and desire, pain and arousal. He bites his lip so hard that the still fresh cut splits open, drops of bright red blood running down his chin. And then he catches his breath again, spreading his legs further and pulling Cas in, moaning with every inch of his cock buried inside of him.

* * * *

Cas leans down, letting Dean’s legs drape over his thighs, carefully stilling his hips so he doesn’t move any further inside of Dean. He shifts inside of him though, not going any deeper but the angle changing as Cas leans down to flick his tongue out, collecting tiny ruby droplets of blood from Dean’s chin. He looks into Dean’s eyes and then kisses him, softly, slowly, his arm tightening around Dean’s body from beneath- just holding him.

Cas breaks the kiss reluctantly for air, and whispers against Dean’s lips, ‘It’s okay…I’ve got you…’ before pushing his hips further, shuddering at the feeling of Dean around him. Cas bottoms out, deep inside of Dean, and stills- he doesn’t move until Dean tells him to, even though his cock aches for more friction and pressure and heat.

* * * *

Dean can feel hot tears burning in the corners of his eyes and he blinks them away. He's not crying, not now. It still hurts like hell but there's something else now too... something sparking deep inside him, taking a few seconds until it's burning even hotter than the pain.

"Cas", he sobs, hoping that Cas understands. He's not able to bear this stillness any longer... "Cas, please..."

* * * *

Cas starts slow, backing his hips up just an inch and then pushing back inside of Dean, a low groan escaping his lips. He drags his arm out from underneath Dean to support himself, his other arm clasping Dean’s hip, keeping him still as he thrusts inside of him.

The look of concentration and pleasure on Cas’ face is pornographic, his mouth dropped open and lips curling back now and then whenever it feels particularly breath taking. He slowly picks up speed, angling his hips just right that when he pulls out and then drives back inside, deep into Dean’s hole, his cock hits that spot every time, relentlessly torturing Dean from the inside.

* * * *

A broken cry comes over Dean's lips, as Cas starts moving. It's slow and careful at first and it's driving Dean insane. The friction is so good, the feeling so incredibly intense that he can't help groaning with each thrust, desperately trying to clutch harder at Cas' shoulders. And then Cas accelerates his pace, pulling out of him almost completely before pushing back inside, each thrust coming faster and harder, making Dean's lips fall open and just gasp soundlessly, his hands gripping the headboard above. He wraps his legs around Cas' back, changing the angle slightly and ushering Cas even closer, his lips searching for Cas', kissing him wildly.

* * * *

Cas moans against Dean’s lips, thrusting harder and faster now, burying himself to the hilt inside of Dean. He wants to come so badly, every nerve ending crying out in unison for it, sparking and tingling all over his body- but he wants Dean to come first.  
Castiel leans down, continuing to push into Dean’s body while he kisses him, hungry, lips parting only to let out cries and moans into the morning light. Cas reaches a hand between their arching torsos, wrapping it around Dean’s cock loosely, and start pumping in rhythm with his thrusts.

“F..fuck Dean….you’re-…so…tight!”

He gasps the words out, barely able to breath from the vice around his cock, his chest constricted like it too is buried inside of Dean, his entire body clenched tight screaming DEANDEANDEAN! Cas feels his arm start to shake so drops down onto his elbow, pressing their chests and stomachs together. He lets go of Dean’s cock and just lets the friction of their torsos assault it, the tightening muscles in his own stomach with each thrust helping to brush and rub and squeeze Dean between them.

* * * *

To Dean it might've seemed impossible before but Castiel's deep and gravelly voice gets even darker during sex. And this... this is even more intense than anything they've done before. This is Dean opening up and letting Cas inside - both physically and emotionally - this is Dean trusting Cas with his whole being, giving his heart and body to him, willingly handing over full controll. It should scare him how addicted he's to this, to Cas, but instead all he feels is safe and cared for and loved... It takes minutes, endless moments of gasping breats and frenzied thrusts and whispered words of affection until Dean reaches his climax. He came with Cas before, felt his orgasm rushing over him like a tsunami wave, tearing his every thought from his mind and leaving him ravished and blissful. This is nothing like the times before. It's Dean, arching from the bed underneath Cas, his eyes widening, brightness exploding in front of them, as his whole body's trembling with the sudden and powerful release. It's Dean crying out Castiel's name, again and again, holding on to his shoulders, leaving deep scratch marks on his back and pressing him closer, not willing to ever let him go again. And it's Dean, blacking out, everything fading slowly to black, the last thing he sees before his lids close, is Castiel's face, looking down on him both proud and incredibly happy.

* * * *

Watching Dean come beneath him had to be the prettiest and most erotic sight Cas had ever seen. And then Dean blacked out and he wasn’t sure if he was really blacked out or just shutting his eyes against all the sensations for a moment.

The smile that Dean had seen as he passed out quickly fades to a look of worry and slight horror. Did he break Dean?! Cas pulls out carefully and gently shakes Dean, but the man doesn’t respond. Cas runs a hand down his face and then gets up, cleaning himself up quickly and then Dean as well, hoping the cool washcloth on his body will wake him up. When that fails Castiel double checks to make sure Dean is still breathing, and then just lies beside him, watching and waiting, worried, for Dean to wake up again.

* * * *

Dean wakes with a jolt, sitting up in the bed and looking around in confusion for a moment. Then he sees Cas, there's a look of surprise on his face, mixed with worry and Dean lets himself fall back on the pillow, smiling awkwardly up at him.

"Oh god, I... I can't believe this", he moans, feeling his cheeks blush and quickly raising both hands to cover his reddened face "That qualifies as the lamest, most embarassing moment in my life..."

* * * *

Cas grabs Dean’s wrists gently and pulls his hands from his face with a soft laugh.

“I’m just glad you’re okay... you are okay, right?”

He scoots closer and kisses Dean, the look of worry still painted on his features. Cas had been so worried he hadn’t even been able to finish, just praying Dean was okay. He’d heard horror stories about hitting the prostate wrong and the pleasure becoming excruciating pain, but he’d never heard first hand tales, and obviously never seen it. He was just hopeful that wasn’t what happened here.

* * * *

Dean chuckles and leans into the kiss, raising a hand to cup Cas' face tenderly.

"You just fucked me unconscious, babe - I'm more than okay", he says, biting down playfully on Cas lower lip and pushing him back until he's lying on the bed, Dean leaning over him "And I have the feeling that I need to properly thank you for that..."

He grins slyly up at Cas, before moving downwards, kissing over his chest and stomach, dipping his tongue into his bellybutton and finally wrapping his lips around Cas' cock. It doesn't take him long to make the other man moan and scream his name, emptying himself down Dean's throat, who swallows everything, licking the last drops of come from the throbbing piece of flesh, before crawling back up again to kiss his panting lover.

* * * *

Cas wraps his shaking arms around Dean and holds him there, kissing him desperately.

“Jesus Dean….that’s….nghh…”

There aren’t really words so Cas stops trying to talk and just kisses him again, softer this time, his hands brushing gently over Dean’s cheekbones and up into his hair. Cas laughs suddenly, and pulls his head back as he chuckles to himself.

“... ‘fucked me unconscious’….heh!”

* * * *

Dean shrugs and leans down again to nibble on Cas' lips.

"If you ever tell somebody about this, I'm gonna end you", he warns, kissing down his neck and throat, placing several hickeys there. It's only several minutes later that Dean lies down next to Cas, placing his head on his shoulder, breathing him in contentedly. Dean Winchester doesn't normally cuddle. But he's fucking exhausted and right now all he wants is to lie in Cas arms and look at him and remember every detail of their first time like a fucking virgin teenage girl.

* * * *

Cas laughs and intertwines their fingers, gently kissing the tips of Dean’s.

“Who would I tell Dean?”

He smirks and looks down at the man cuddling up next to him, lying his head on Cas’ shoulder like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And it is, in this moment. This is right where both of them belong, in this bed, in each other’s arms.

‘and there’s nothing that can change that…’, Cas thinks to himself, before kissing Dean’s forehead with a content sigh. They fall asleep like this, tangled and sweaty and exhausted, holding one another tight in reality and in their dreams. It's late afternoon when Cas wakes up to the smell of pancakes; Dean surprises him with a tray of breakfast foods at 5pm, filled with pancakes and bacon, sausage and fresh squeezed orange juice.

“Besides burgers…this is my favorite thing ever. Breakfast anytime other than breakfast time.”

Cas grins at Dean, obviously pleased with Dean’s idea. Dean won’t admit it out loud, but he’s glowing with pride on the inside. They share the breakfast/dinner together, and then fuck once more, this time from behind, Cas gripping onto Dean’s hips so tight his knuckles turn white- and this time Dean doesn’t pass out, much to Cas’ relief.

Cas whispers ‘I love you’ when he comes, deep inside of Dean, and they both sob out of the pure fucking pleasure of it all. Castiel kisses a soft pathway up Dean’s back, and then they both make their way to the shower, which has to be rushed or Cas will be late for work.

Castiel leaves with another ‘Love you, Dean’ on his lips, pressing the words to Dean’s mouth, and the last thing Dean sees is Castiel driving off to work in his beat up rental.

* * * *

Dean honestly can't remember a time when he'd been this happy. It feels like he's glowing, his heart filled with affection, his skin wet from the hurried shower and his legs still trembling from Cas holding him, touching him and fucking him into the mattress. He sleeps for about two hours, completely and blissfully exhausted. When he wakes up it's dark outside and the sheets are rumpled from their activities earlier that day. Dean smiles to himself, yawning and stretching out on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. He almost can't believe it but he's already getting hard, just thinking about that morning, about Cas thrusting inside his willing body, making him his wholly. Finally he gets up, puts on some boxers and walks over to the living room, where his cell lies on the couch table. He sits down in the armchair by the window and speed dials the number of the helpline. He grins as he hears the dial tone, waiting for Cas' usual welcome-

“Good evening... thank you for calling the Emporia Help Line, my name is Judy, how can I help you tonight?”

Dean falters, blinking a few times before he finds the right words.

"Uhm... hi- hi Judy, my name's... look... is Cas there?"

There's a short pause and Judy speaks again.

"Uhm... Cas? I'm sorry but he's not here anymore."

"Not here?" Dean feels his heartbeat quicken. "So he's... gone home early?"

Another pause. Judy's reply is quiet and careful but Dean still feels like somebody just punched him in the guts.

"Cas doesn't work here anymore. He quit 2 weeks ago when..."

Dean doesn't wait for her to finish the sentence. The cellphone slips out of his hand and glides on the floor where a faint dark spot still reminds of Dean's suicide attempt.

'He quit 2 weeks ago'

Judy's words echo in his head and he leans back, staring at the ceiling for minutes, maybe hours, before the painful truth finally sets in.

Cas had lied to him...

* * * *

The night had been a rough one for Castiel. There had been a bar brawl and he’s gotten punched breaking it up, so his jaw was swelling and throbbing from that by closing. There’d also been a bachelorette party and some stupid bitch wouldn’t take No for an answer, so he’d had to kick the whole lot of them out, without them paying, which came out of his tips for the night. Around 4am he finally made it home, showered and dressed.

He was exhausted, but the only thing on his mind was going to his real home, and seeing Dean. Just the thought of freckles and tanned skin made him take a deep calming breath, a sigh of relief following soon after. Cas grabs a rose from a neighbor’s bush on his way to his car, bright orange, ‘a cheerful color’, he thinks, before he hops into his car and drives to Dean’s.

When he gets there Cas takes another look at the bruise on his cheek and quickly comes up with yet another lie to cover it. A flash of guilt washes over him, but he shoos it away, into the back of his mind with the rest of the guilt he was feeling over lying to Dean about everything he’d felt he had to in the past two weeks. It would be safe there for now.

He unlocks the door and steps inside, quiet, knowing Dean might be asleep as it’s almost 5am. Cas shuts the door and locks it again before tiptoeing towards the bedroom.

* * * *

When Cas passes him, Dean clears his throat, clearly startling the other man who hadn't noticed Dean still sitting on the armchair by the window. Cas makes a step towards him but, Dean crosses his legs, turning his head away from him. His voice is calm but Cas knows immediately that something's wrong.

"So, how was work, Cas?", he asks, looking over to the couch, avoiding Cas' gaze "Save any lives tonight?"

* * * *

Cas freezes and feels his heart stop in his chest. What…was going on? He licks his lips and chooses his words carefully.

“Maybe…I did stop one of the other operators from picking a fight with the supervisor though.”

Cas smiles sheepishly and points at his bruised cheek, before taking a step toward Dean and putting the rose on the coffee table near him.

“…How was your night, babe?”

His heart is still trying to start again, and there’s something swelling in his chest that makes it hard to breath. Something’s wrong something’s wrong something’s so very WRONG.

* * * *

Dean smiles but there's no happiness on his face. Finally he turns back to face Castiel, his eyes hard and unyielding.

"Stop lying at me Cas."

His chest feels constricted, as he recognizes the guilt and shame and exposure on Castiel's face and Dean knows that this won't end well.

"I called the hotline. You haven't been there for weeks."

* * * *

The look on Cas’ face is like someone gave him the sweetest, most wonderful puppy in the world, let him fall in love with it, and then yanked it away from him.

“…I-…”

He licks his lips again and looks down at his hands, which by now have taken up fistfuls of his shirt for something, anything, to hold onto.

“…I passed my evaluation the first time…I didn’t get another month of community service.”

Cas is praying for a miracle, praying that maybe, somehow, someway, Dean will understand why he did what he did- why he had to. There’s an overwhelming sense that he won’t though, and Cas can feel cracks starting in his heart, the burning pain in his chest igniting once again.

He was going to lose Dean.

And it was all his fault.

* * * *

Dean feels his lips quiver as he slowly stands up, taking a step towards the window, away from Cas, his eyes fixed on the ground. He tries to remain calm, he really does. But the anger and disappointment and betrayal boils up in him so fervently, that it's even hard to breathe for a moment.

"You lied to me", he finally says and his voice is still awfully calm "You lied to me all this time..."

He spins around without any warning, sweeping a few framed photos off the windowsill, their glass shatterin on the ground.

"I gave you everything and you fuckin' lied to my face this whole time?!"

* * * *

Cas yelps in surprise and takes a step back, away from Dean’s rage. He holds his hands up and out, like a barrier between him and Dean.

“I’m sorry Dean! I’m sorry…I didn’t want to- I never meant to lie to you, I just didn’t see another way to stay here, to stay with you!”

By now tears of fear and sadness, tinged with a bit of anger at both himself and Dean have welled up into Cas’ eyes. His hands ball into fists which he drops to his side, a stuttering breath shaking out of him.

* * * *

"Oh, so now it's my fault?!", Dean growls and takes another step towards Cas, pushing his hands away and grabbing his shoulders, looking at him with anger and incomprehension. "What else were you lying about? What the hell was this, some kind of project? Dammit Cas, what were you thinking?! Why did you do this? You were going to get to go home!"

* * * *

Cas is sobbing by now and he shoves Dean away from him, his voice cracking as he yells back.  
“I DID IT FOR YOU DEAN! I DID IT ALL FOR YOU!”  
He scrubs at his eyes and lets out another sob before continuing, his voice getting angrier and louder as he goes.  
“You told me to go home, that I should go home, but I didn’t WANT TO GO HOME. I wanted to stay here, with you!!! But you’re too fucking stubborn and you don’t believe- you don’t think you deserve to be happy!”  
It’s Cas’ turn to get physical now and he takes Dean’s face in his hands, not as gently as he probably could have but when your eyes are blurry with tears you work with what you have.  
“I love you, I never, ever lied about that. I love you so fucking much, but I couldn’t tell you that because you wouldn’t LET me- without another reason- f-for me to stay here…So I lied, I fucking lied and I hated it and it killed me inside but I LIED to stay here, to stay with you!”   
His hands drop and he takes a deep shuddering breath before backing away until his back hits the wall, his hands loose like defeated warriors at his sides.  
* * * *  
Dean steps away from Castiel, shaking his head as the past two weeks flash before his eyes.

"Jesus Cas... that fight... the night before the evaluation..."

He takes a deep breath as he realizes that this was the first time, Cas had lied to him. That he had initiated a fight, just to find a reason to stay in Kansas...

"And what good did it do, huh? What the fuck did we gain out of this, Cas? You're still going to go back some day and you're gonna leave me behind with a pile of fucking shards!!"

He feels like he can't breathe, his chest hurts, his heart hammering against his ribcage.

'You broke my heart', he thinks.

"You had no right to hurt me like this."

* * * *

Castiel feels his legs grow weak and his breath hitch in his throat. His voice is harsh as he croaks out just one word, every bit of love and terror and desperation that’s filling him up inside coming out in that word.

“…Dean-“

* * * *

Dean interrupts him before he can make another sound, his words cold and broken.

“Get out.”

* * * *

It’s just two words, but it’s like a hammer and chisel to his heart, breaking it into a million pieces. Cas lets out one last sob and then he’s out the door, slamming it behind him as he stumble runs to his car. He slams into the door and scratches the paint in his hurry to get inside, but once he does he can’t even put the key in the ignition he’s crying so hard.  
It takes a good five minutes of sobbing before Cas is able to pull himself together enough to put the key in the ignition and shakily start the car. The car groans to a start, seemingly empathizing with Castiel’s current emotional state of absolutely broken.  
He makes it back home in one piece and then spends the morning crying into the old, flat pillow on his rented apartment bed, a bed he hadn’t slept in for two weeks. Not since he’d started staying with Dean. This realization sends him into another fit, the harsh sobs wracking his frame for an hour until he cries himself to sleep. Cas wakes in the early afternoon to a soap opera from next door- irony of it being the wedding march is not lost on him. He packs slowly, shuffling around his apartment like one of the dead. He feels completely numb now, and is trying his hardest to keep it that way- at least until he can get home to California, to his house on the Lake, where he can at least rot away emotionally on a more comfortable bed.  
He’s packed and dropping his rental car off at the airport by 7:30 that night. By 9 he’s on the plane, staring lifelessly out the window as a baby kicks his seat and shrieks, and the only thought that runs through his head are the last words Dean Winchester ever said to him, less than a day ago.

‘Get out.’

Cas shuts his eyes against the burning hot tears that threaten to come up again, his mouth screwing up in a grimace against the pain in his chest as his heart answers Dean’s voice in his head.

‘I will.’

* * * *

Dean feels completely numb as he watches Cas leave his apartment without another word, without even looking back. There's bitterness on his face and anger but most of all it's a mask of deep and utter sadness. When the door falls shut, he realizes that his legs are shaking and - not able to make it over to the armchair - he sinks to the floor, leaning back against the wall and wrapping his arms around his legs. He stares into nothingness but he doesn't cry, which is surprising and terrifying at once. The night comes and Dean thinks that this is the first night in almost two weeks that Cas isn't here to hold him. And finally, as the moonlight shines through the blinds, throwing strange shadows on the walls of his bedroom, Dean cries.

* * * *

The flight seems to go by faster than it should, considering the entire time is spent in darkness, people sleeping all around him, but Cas can't fall asleep no matter how much his exhausted body and mind wants him to. His chest just hurts too much, and he understands the meaning of heartbreak once again. The only other time he'd felt this was when he found his Mother that night, lying face down in a puddle of her own vomit, having drunk herself into a stupor once again to escape the emotional pain of a distant husband and the physical pain of her liver disease. That pain had been different, but no less than this.

He had lost Dean. He had betrayed his trust, and there was no hope for him in the future- the look in Dean's eyes when he'd told him to get out was enough for Castiel to know that. It was over.

So with a heavy heart that seemed to weigh down his entire existence, he made his way home to his house in the mountains after landing at the airport. It was a long drive home, but a tearless one as Cas sat in silence with the window down, the chilled mountain air stinging his eyes and skin. It felt good to have the cold air numb him, the pain inside less and less the less he felt overall.

Once he made it home Cas fell into his bed, a deep sleep taking him almost instantly- it's the only blessing in an otherwise horrific day that this sleep is dreamless.

* * * *

Dean's still angry, when he wakes up. He still feels betrayed and used - but most of all he feels guilty again. Guilty for confusing Cas the way he obviously did, until the other man had forgotten what really was important - going back home, returning to his own life, his own friends - in order to stay with Dean, like he was some stray kitten he had to take care of. Dean leaves the house without having breakfast, wandering the empty streets of Emporia on this early Sunday morning. He walks until his feet feel as numb as the rest of his body does. He's hiding his puffy, red eyes behind dark sunglasses and only takes them off, once he reached the riverbank where he and Cas had come the day after Castiel had told him he loved him. Kicking off his shoes he walks into the ice cold water, hissing slightly at the sharp pain, but not backing up. He takes the same way, they had walked on that day, hand in hand, talking about everything and nothing and his heart feels like it's breaking with every step he takes. When he reaches the city limit, where the water gets deeper, he steps out of the river and puts on his shoes again. His feet are prickling with pins and needles but Dean doesn't give them time to rest. No matter what Cas had done - he was not going to let this rest, let Cas mope alone, regretting what he'd done. Yes, Dean felt betrayed - but Cas was important to him. Hell, he was the most important person in his life at this moment. And he sure as hell wasn't gonna sit tight and wait for something to happen. Not anymore. Cas had told him about his crappy apartment and even though he'd never taken Dean there, he knows the approximate region where it's located. He doesn't walk home first, instead takes the quickest route to the east of the city. He feels exhausted and so fucking tired when he finally reaches the small building and enters the office on the ground floor. The manager is fast asleep so Dean has to clear his throat a few times until he finally looks up drowsily.

"I'm looking for my friend", Dean tells him, his voice strong "Castiel Novak. I need his room number."

The man stares at him for a good 10 seconds before he reacts at all, pulling his registry book closer, his eyes searching the pages. He's frowning when he looks up and softly shakes his head.

"Sorry, kiddo - guy checked out yesterday. Seemed to be in a hurry."

And once again Dean feels like somebody just emptied a bucket of ice above his head. He stands there for a moment, breathless, speechless, his whole body tensing at the thought of what this could mean. He gulps, before speaking again, his throat dry with anxiety.

"Ch-checked out? But he's... he's coming back, isn't he?"

But the manager just shakes his head, raising an eyebrow.

"Took all his stuff with him and asked me to call the car rental at Kansas International he'd drop the car off that night-"

Dean spins around, not even sparing the man another word, rushing out the door and running, running until his feet give in and he stumbles and stops and sinks down against the wall of a dingy building. All he can hear is his heart hammering against his chest, his blood rushing in his ears and the manager's words, over and over again.

"He's gone", Dean finally whispers to himself, when hot tears run down his cheeks.

Cas left him without a single word, without even giving him the chance to make it right, to save this, to fix them. And he finally realizes just what this is.

He's in love with Cas.


	6. Chapter 6

The week that followed his return to his beautiful home passed in a blur for Castiel. It seemed like he was living in someone else’s dream- the house was perfect, the setting was perfect, even his neighbors were their normal private but polite selves. But nothing felt right, nothing felt whole. He felt like someone had reached into his rib cage and taken his heart right out, leaving a gaping jagged hole that nothing would ever properly fill. Cas felt far too imperfect for this world to be his.

On the fourth day he finally managed to drag himself out of the house and into his garage workshop, thinking that maybe working on his beautiful boat would help him heal. Working with his hands in the past had always been a source of pleasure, a way to calm himself down and center everything he was feeling. He stood in the doorway of the workshop, looking at the almost finished canoe, perfect except for a few minor things to touch up here and there- by this point it was probably sea worthy. Something inside him cracked as he looked at the perfect boat, mocking him with it’s untouchable strength, while inside Castiel felt nothing but broken.

Without even realizing it he was picking up the ax he used to chop firewood, and with one determined swing and a war cry worthy of the best soldier out there, he slammed the ax into the boat. Splinters went flying as he hacked away, breathing hard and grunting with the effort it took to swing the heavy ax, again and again and again. By the time his arms gave out, refusing to swing anymore, screaming with pain at under used muscles and perhaps a strained ligament or two, the boat that he had talked about so fondly with Dean, his pride and joy, lay on the workshop floor in broken pieces, barely recognizable as to what it once was.

Castiel leaned against one of the posts that held up the roof, gasping for air. The ax fell from his hands and landed on the concrete floor with a dull clang, but he couldn’t hear it. His heartbeat in his ears, rushing hot blood through his dizzy head was all he could hear. That and a dark voice somewhere in the back that said ‘now it matches you, Cas’.

~

That night Castiel dragged all of the pieces of his boat out onto the pebbly beach in front of his house, and set them ablaze. Sitting with his back against a large piece of drift wood, wrapped in a homemade blanket that had been given to him years ago by an Aunt or a cousin, he’d forgotten who, Cas watched the flames lick at the wood, the lacquer he’d painted on curling and melting and sparking orange and purple. The flames consumed the remains of what had once been his masterpiece, the old style canoe that had taken him years to build. He’d started after his Mother died, just a distraction to keep him busy, keep his mind off of things. As his heart had healed from the loss of his Mother, the boat had taken form until it was almost ready. Who would have guessed that the loss of another person he loved would mean the death of the boat he made to heal from the first loss he ever experienced?

Watching the flames lick up the wood was soothing, the crackle and pop of the fire eating away at it lulled Cas to sleep, and for once in over 4 days he manages to sleep through the night.

~

Cas wakes up with a start at the sound of a wood pecker hammering away at a pine tree somewhere near by. He winces, his back hurting from the log he fell asleep against, and looks down at himself and the blanket now covered in morning dew. The smell of fire has faded some, and all that’s left of the once proud boat is a pile of ash and still glowing embers. Castiel stands up, letting the blanket fall back down to the beach, and heads back into his workshop with a firm set expression.

By sunset that evening, he has a new log set up in his workshop, and is using chisel and ax to slowly begin the process of making a new boat. With every tap-slice of the hammer hitting chisel, another curl of wood falls away from the log, and the outline of the ship is slowly starting to form. Cas continues working well into the night, trying to ignore the pain still seated deep in his chest. The thought hits him once, and only once, that starting over and making a new boat was going to be so much easier than starting over with his life now that he knew what love was. Now that he knew Dean, and had lost him.

* * * *

The nightmares return. Of course they do. The first night he wakes with a jolt, his body bathed in sweat and shaking, the image of his mother’s bloody face still vividly in his mind. His legs are shaky as he stumbles in the kitchen to boil some water. Staring out the window in the dark, sipping at his camomile tea, Dean calms down slowly. He doesn’t cry and for a moment he’s bewildered and disappointed in himself. By the time the sun rises and the first people leave their houses to get to work, Dean still sits by the window, his mind blank. He leaves the apartment later that day for his first day of work, even though all he wants to do is curl up into a ball and never speak to anyone else again. The work is fine, much better than his last job actually, and by the end of the day Dean is relieved he showed up. It had been 5 hours of not having the time to think about Cas and how he’d just abandoned and left him. When he comes home that evening, he passes the carhouse where the Impala is parked and even though he’s physically exhausted, he unlocks the garage door to look at her. There’s a bit of rust around the rims and parts of lacquer had splintered off throughout the years. Nothing that can’t be fixed… when he falls into bed that night, he feels better than in the morning, finally having an end in view.

~

Dean spends the rest of the week working; both at the garage and at home. After rewiring the car, exchanging the motor and some basic car parts the workshop manager gave him instead of his wage, the Impala slowly but surely assumes shape. By Tuesday of the next week Dean’s started repainting the frame and mending the last few disfigurements and on Friday afternoon he sits inside, letting the motor roar and smiling to himself with satisfaction. He’d take a decision once he’d started fixing the car - he’s not gonna let Cas step out of his life that easily. He’s gonna find Cas. And if this meant searching all fucking California, so be it. He had one clue, though - Fallen Leaf Lake. It’s early on Saturday morning, when Dean throws a duffel full of clothes in the backseat and starts the car, steering her on I-80 westbound.

* * * *

Castiel spends his time working on the boat, absorbing himself in the smells and textures, getting splinters and blisters and calluses on his hands. He only feels okay when he's working, his mind on the wood grain and the tools he's using, on what he's going to stain the wood and what lacquer he'll use to seal everything in. The last boat had been made with pine, but this one he chose cedar for. The rich heady smell of cedar shavings filled the workshop and reminded him of his childhood, back before his Father lost touch with the world, and before his Mother started drinking. Making tiny boats out of twigs with Anna on the beach, not 50 yards from where he was currently standing, his parents sitting on the covered porch in rocking chairs, sipping lemonade in the summer, and sharing hot cocoa in the winter while he and Anna made snow men.

'Things weren't always this bad...', Cas thinks to himself as he slides his planer across the top of the canoe, taking long curling slices out of what would be the rim of the canoe. He takes a deep, ragged breath and pushes all the memories to the back of his head, refocusing on his work, and trying to ignore the nagging sensation that not even a boat could fix what was wrong with him this time.

* * * *

Dean drives five hours through until he first has to refill the tank. His baby doesn't disappoint him. She's gliding smoothly across the highway, the engine purring and the dashboard quietly humming. He picks up a sandwich, chocolate bars and some bottles of water before driving on. Only when it's getting dark and Dean has trouble to keep his eyes open, he pulls the car in the parking lot of a shabby motel. He sleeps well that night, exhausted from driving non-stop, and he dreams of Cas. He leaves early in the morning and keeps driving, drinking steaming black coffee and singing along with 'Carry on my wayward son' on full volume. When he passes Tahoe Valley, he mutes the radio and concentrates on the route instead. The landscape around here is truly beautiful and Dean remembers with a smile how fondly Cas had talked about his home; he can totally see now what he meant... Of course Dean had checked the local phone books beforehand but couldn't find a Castiel or Cas Novak anywhere near Fallen Leaf Lake or South Lake Tahoe. He follows the narrow roads that lead around the lake and takes the first turn off he sees. The small cottage is empty but the plate next to the entrance says 'Miller' and Dean takes off again without hesitation. He's more lucky at the next address, even though he doesn't find Cas there either. Unfortunately the old lady doesn't know who he's talking about but instad tells him that there aren't many houses situated directly at the lake and Dean takes off again with a little more hope. After six more houses and a sixfold of frustration, Dean parks the car to walk for a bit. He reaches a small, rocky beach and stops, to take a look around. The lake is indeed stunning. The sun is shining and the reflection of the distant Mount Tallac is clear visible on the calm water surface. Somewhere far on the right he can see a small marina and some of the houses he'd already been to. He sighs and turns to the left, surprised to find a beautiful house just about 500 feet away. He hesitates for just a moment, before he decides to trust his instincts. Leaving his baby parked on the side of the road, he starts walking towards the house, kicking gravel and grey sand away. After knocking on the door three times and getting no answer whatsoever, Dean's willing to accept that this is another dead-end. He's already heading back to his car, when suddelny there's a piercing, grinding sound, that makes Dean stop on the spot. Turning around again, he walks back on the property, surrounding the house and finally spotting a slightly smaller shed at the back. He gulps when his eyes fall on a massive pine tree right next to the shed and the scruffy carving in its bark.

'Anna & Cas'

Not even bothering to knock, Dean grips the handle and opens the large door. And there's Cas. Wearing worn out jeans and a ripped white muscle shirt, a planing machine in his hands and a look of shock and surprise on his face. For a moment Dean's lips curl into a small smile and a quiet "Cas" escapes his dry throat. Then he steps forward, lunging out and punching Cas in the face.

* * * *

Cas turns around expecting to see one of his neighbors, maybe one of the teenage girls down the road who's enamored with him. The shock when he sees not a girl, but Dean, looking a little worn, tired and crumpled, jolts through him like lightening. Castiel was still struggling, and failing, to accept that he would never see Dean again- and here he was, standing in his workshop with a soft smile on his face. 'Cas.' he hears, but he doesn't even have time to smile and respond because there's a flash of pain and bright stars and then he's knocked flat on his ass. The breath is knocked out of him, and Cas gasps for air for a second, lying on the ground amongst the fragrant cedar shavings. He slowly sits up, his head pounding from the punch he just received, and stares up at the man glaring down at him, his hands balled into fists still. "...what... What the hell Dean?"

* * * *

Dean's hands are shaking and his whole body is tense, as he looks down on Castiel. The other man raises a hand to hold his throbbing cheek, staring at Dean with shock and disbelief.

"You're asking me?", Dean hisses, huffing out a fake laugh. "What the fuck were YOU thinking, Cas, running off like that?"

He steps closer, planting himself in front of Cas, who's still sitting on the ground in between wood shavings and dirt. Cas' lips open but Dean interrupts him, before he can make a sound.

"No, you shut up! We were fighting, okay? It's normal, Cas, that's what couples do!!"

He doesn't stop, doesn't even comment on the look of utter bewilderment on Cas' face.

"What they don't do is pack their shit and run off at the first fucking problem! Seriously, Cas? Seriously? One fucking fight and you throw away everything?! And God forbid you give me the chance to sleep a night over it! God fucking forbid you try to apologize or make it up to me somehow! No, you selfish asshole just jump on the next fucking plane to fucking California without even saying a fucking word!"

He's only stopping for a moment to catch his breath, before continuing a little more quiet but still with the same urgency.

"You didn't even give me a chance to..."

He shakes his head, blushing slightly.

"Dammit, Cas - I fucking love you! You saved my life so many times, there's no way I could ever pay you back what you gave me... but you said you loved me... and then you just left and I was so fucking scared I'd never see you again and-..."

His eyes are fixed on Castiel, his heart pounding in his chest, as his voice softens.

"I love you Cas, you're a stupid sonofabitch but I love you, I love you so much, you selfish prick!"

* * * *

Cas is still holding his cheek by the end of Dean's tirade, but the pain does nothing to stop the tears that well up and start trickling down his cheeks. Every word hits home and half of Cas wants to beg for forgiveness, sob into Dean's arms and pray that he'll take him back. The other half is pissed.

“Me? Selfish?! I ….I did everything for you! I was there for you when you needed me at the fucking hotline, and when you called me-”

His voice cracks at the memory as he recalls that night...

“I-....there was so much blood Dean....” Cas sobs it out and leans forward, rocking himself slightly.

“....I was there when you needed me....and I loved you when you said no one could!”

Cas continues his own tirade, the words just flowing now, capturing every emotion he's feeling- hurt, sad, scared, confused, ...in love.

“-and when I knew there wasn't a reason for me to stay- I made one up. I FUCKING LIED BECAUSE I WANTED TO BE WITH YOU. Because you won't let yourself be loved and that be a good enough reason- oh, no, that's not possible!”

He snorts with angry, almost bitter laughter and looks away from Dean for a moment, biting his lower lip to stop any more laughter from escaping. Cas looks back up at Dean and frowns, his eyes searching Dean's.

“And then you found out. And you told me to leave-” The word leave is said with so much pain in it that Cas' face crumples as he says it

“ - to get out. So I did. I did it all for you Dean, every last bit. If...”

He sobs, lowering his head and covering his face with his hands for a moment. Cas can feel his lower lip quivering as he struggles to form the words he wants to say, needs to say.

“If you love me...why did you ask me to go?”

Cas looks up at Dean with the last few words, those blue eyes glassy with tears, red rimmed and filled with so much longing, still sitting amongst the cedar shavings, looking even more sad than Dean could have ever thought possible.

* * * *

Dean is quiet while Cas is speaking, yelling at him, crying until his eyes are puffy and red. Then Cas falls silent again, the last question still on his lips, a pleading in his eyes that makes Dean's heart constrict with guilt and affection. He takes a step forward and sinks down on his knees in front of Cas, carefully cupping his face, his thumb stroking over the slightly swollen cheek.

"Jesus, Cas, you're such a drama queen... I told you to get out, not to go home", he says but his voice is gentle and soothing "And you just assumed that... you just expected me to throw you out without another reason to stay.. you didn't even try telling me the truth, Cas..."

He gulps, returning Cas' look out of longing, green eyes.

"I mean... you were probably right about my reaction, but... still... I thought what we had is real, Cas... and then you just go and leave me behind?"

* * * *

Cas' breath comes out in shudders, his hands coming up to slide along Dean's forearms to the outside of his hands, callused fingers sliding over the smooth skin. He leans his face into the touch, amazed at how Dean's hand feels against his face.

“....I thought you didn't want me anymore.”

His voice is soft and broken, barely escaping his throat as he looks into Dean's eyes, trying his hardest not to cry anymore.

Castiel lets out another shuddering breath and gives Dean a hesitant smile.

“What we had was very real Dean....I just thought I had screwed up-...that you wouldn't forgive me and would order me home...I thought that ...I thought you were telling me to get out, to leave you alone....I honestly thought that was what you wanted..”

* * * *

"Then you should've asked, Cas... you should've made sure I didn't want you anymore... you should've given me the chance to punch you in the face back in Kansas and tell you how stupid you were."

He chuckles as he says the last words and Cas too smiles weakly and then Dean lifts Castiel's chin and presses his lips against his and they kiss and Dean just lets go everything, all the feelings of loneliness and desperation and betrayal and love he felt those last two weeks without Cas. He presses closer and Cas stumbles, falling backwards until he's lying on his back in the midst of sawdust and logs of wood and neither of them cares, because they're together again.

* * * *

Cas leads the way back into the house, and they're barely inside the porch door before they're tripping over each other, clothes dropping left and right in their eagerness to get skin to skin contact. The shirts come off easily, Cas' in ripped pieces and Dean's lacking buttons, but they're off, followed closely by shoes, socks and pants. They fall into the living room, onto the rug there, Castiel pinned beneath Dean. He brings Dean in for a crushing kiss, breathless as he growls out against his lips,

“Fuck me Dean, make me yours..”

* * * *

Dean shivers at Cas' words, goosebumps all over his almost naked body.

"I will not let you go again, you hear me?", Dean grunts, as he reaches down to pull down Castiel's boxers first, then his own "You're mine, Cas-"

His hands come back up again, grabbing Castiel's wrists and pushing them up, holding them steady above his head, as he leans down to kiss and bite his way down Castiel's neck and collarbone and chest. He's grinding his hips against Castiel's, eliciting sweet, desperate moans from the man beneath him and finally lets go of his hands again, in order to reach down and wrap his fingers around his cock. He's leaning back in to kiss Cas hungrily, while his hand starts jerking him off vigorously.

* * * *

Cas cries out when Dean's hand wraps around his cock, his hips jerking up towards the sensation.

“Ah! Dean!”

Cas had missed so many things about Dean- his smile, his laugh, the way he would roll his eyes at a particularly bad joke, even how he would occasionally talk in his sleep. Cas had missed all of those things, but he had also missed this; the raw sexual chemistry that he and Dean shared was undeniable. They set each other on fire, consumed each other, and then made one another rise again from the ashes, to start the passionate play all over again.

The fire was licking it's way up Castiel's spine now, each touch of Dean's lips or tongue or hand feeding it to a frenzy.

“P-....please Dean....I need you..”

* * * *

Dean bites his lip to hold back a groan at Cas' deep, ravished voice. It's been so long, Dean almost doesn't remember the last time they were this close, Dean clinging to Cas, letting him drive him to ecstasy. The view of Cas coming undone beneath him, his hands gripping Dean's shoulder and the rug he was lying on, almost made him come right away but he somehow managed to restrain himself. Straddling Cas' legs, Dean presses closer, letting his hand drop from his cock to brush hot fingertips over his balls, the insides of his thighs and his entrance. He presses one finger inside, swallowing the soft moan Cas makes, waits a few seconds before pushing in a second one, scissoring them to slowly stretch the other man. He's never done this so he tries to mirror Castiel's movements, the way he liked to be handled. He presses in deeper, searching for the spot that'd make Cas scream with pleasure.

* * * *

Cas hisses and sits up just a little bit to gasp out one word, “Lube”.  
He motions to a closed door around the corner of the living room, down a very short hallway. Dean nods and slides his fingers back out, then kisses Cas again hungrily, nipping at his lower lip. He gets up reluctantly and walks away toward the bedroom to retrieve what Cas had asked for. He finds he easily, sitting beside the bed in the bedside table drawer, just like it had been at home. Dean grabs the bottle and turns around, but Cas is there in the doorway, looking utterly wrecked, his breathing ragged and his hair a mess.  
“couldn't wait,...sorry..”  
He crosses the distance between the two of them and wraps his hands around the back of Dean's neck to bring him so close, tight again his body, his cock brushing against Dean's to draw soft moans from both of them. Cas clings to Dean, standing in this bedroom he never thought Dean would stand in, would sleep in, would make love to him in.  
* * * *  
Wrapping his arms around Cas, Dean pulls Cas closer and shifts them until he can easily push Cas down on the bed behind him. It's huge - nothing like Dean's rather small bed back in Kansas - and the headboard is carved beautifully with vines and unfamiliar words in a flourishes script. Dean bends down to kiss Cas again, their close body contact drawing pleasured moans out of his mouth. Dean breaks the kiss only reluctantly to sit back up, opening the bottle and covering his fingers with lube. Sliding them back down, he makes sure to coat his cock and Cas' entrance with as much of the gel as he can. Then he leans back over Cas, searching his eyes one last time, before pushing inside carefully.

* * * *

Cas hisses an exhale of breath, wrapping his hands around Dean's forearms and digging in with his nails. He shuts his eyes and relaxes himself, forcing his body to accept Dean in. The feeling is strange as always at first, but quickly that fades into the background as Cas gets used to the intrusion.  
“A..a.h..”  
Dean feels so huge inside him, and Cas has trouble for a minute or two thinking straight; all he knows is that he missed this feeling, and it's a million times better knowing that it's Dean pushing inside of him and not someone he barely knew, just seeking release.  
He lifts his leg up to wrap loosely around Dean's back, giving him better access and tilting Dean's cock inside of him. He nods to Dean and then kisses him softly.  
“Ready.”  
* * * *  
The time it takes Cas to get used to the feeling of being filled, Dean just stills above him, looking down and memorizing every single facial expression he makes, every flutter of eyelids, the soft frown as Dean presses in closer and the slightly parted lips. When Cas speaks again, his voice is quiet, barely more than a breath and Dean shudders and gulps, returning the kiss for a few breathless seconds. Then he starts moving, one hand gripping Cas' hip, the other steadying himself. The first few thrusts are hard, there's so much friction and Dean has trouble to keep thinking straight. But then he looks down into Cas' wide, blue eyes and the hesitation falls off of him like some heavy weight. He groans wildly and pulls out of Cas almost completely before thrusting back in, sliding the whole bed a few inches forward and making the other man scream out in surprise and pleasure.

* * * *

Cas' hands slide up to wrap around Dean's back and neck, pulling him down for a desperate kiss, his breath hissing out with each thrust in moans and soft yelps of pleasure.  
“F-....fuck Dean!”  
It felt so good, the slide of another man inside of him, the joy of utter spine melting pleasure from Dean's cock brushing his prostate again and again. Cas felt like he was going to explode from the overload of sensations, his body rocking up on it's own to meet Dean's thrusts. He was going insane and Dean was taking him there, driving him into the bed and over edge violently.  
Cas' head arches back at a particularly harsh thrust, a soundless scream coming from his throat as he grips Dean's shoulders tight, nails digging in to cling to the only thing that mattered in the moment- his Dean.  
* * * *  
"D'you feel this Cas? You feel me?", Dean gasps out, pushing inside him again and again "Don't you ever think of running away from me again!" He leans down to catch Castiel's lips in a feverish kiss, his teeth nipping at them possessively. His hand leaves Cas' hip to slide down his leg and back up to wrap around his cock. For the next few minutes the bedroom is filled with heated moans and broken cries. It's Cas who comes first, digging his nails in Dean's shoulders and crying out, as he throws his head back into the pillow and tries to catch his breath again. Dean follows only shortly after, the waves of his orgasm rushing over him as he looks down on Cas, who's still writhing and sighing beneath him. He sinks down on Cas, rolling himself to the side after a few seconds and just keeps lying there, his eyes closed, the sensations still burning inside of him.

* * * *

Cas lies still for another minute, chest rising and falling rapidly, but it slows down and he feels like he can finally talk again.  
He rolls his head to one side, blue eyes taking in the man lying on the bed beside him. The man who'd chased him halfway across the country, who'd searched for him without even knowing his real address, and who'd punched him because he'd been so pissed Cas would even leave in the first place. Dean. His Dean.  
A soft slow smile breaks over Castiel's face as he realizes that Dean won't leave him- he won't just run off like the others did, and he won't give up on him. Without even realizing it, Cas had made a test for Dean, and Dean had passed with flying colors. He rolls over so he's laying on his stomach, half on Dean, resting his head on his hand, elbow on the bed, his other hand lazily tracing Dean's collarbones.  
“....I love you, Dean Winchester.”  
* * * *  
Dean opens his eyes and looks up at Cas, mirroring the soft smile on his lips before pulling him down, his arm around Cas' neck, his other hand stroking his cheek as he kisses him softly and yet passionately.  
"And I love you, you moron", he chuckles and hisses, as Cas bites down on his lip gently. They lie in silence for some time, Cas' head resting on Dean's chest, Dean's hand absently stroking his hair, messing it up even further.  
"Fuck, this is really paradise", he says, after looking out of the window, taking in the beautiful scenery, the crystal clear lake and the beaming sunlight breaking on the surface of it "I get why you wanted to go home so bad..."

* * * *

Cas smiles softly and wraps his arms around Dean tight.

“It wasn’t though, when I got back….but now it is again.”

He blushes and buries his face in the crook of Dean’s neck, ignoring the throaty mocking laugh that comes out as Dean realizes what Cas meant. This place was paradise- now that Dean was here.

~

“So you made sure to get the maps, right?”

“Yes.”

“And coats?”

“Yes.”

“Toothbrush?”

“Yes, Mom.”

Cas throws Dean a glare, but breaks into laughter as Dean glares right back.

“Okay okay…so we’re ready then?”

“Looks like it.”

Cas smiles and looks back at his house, locked up safe and sound, curtains drawn and keys given to the neighbors just in case they need to check on anything. He smiles and shifts to look at Dean, who’s leaning against his freshly washed and polished baby. The Impala is packed to the brim with duffle bags, camping gear, and snacks that cause heart attacks.

The last thing he takes a long, lingering look at is the lake, crystal clear as always, barely rippling as the wind carries through the tiny valley, rustling trees and scattering pine needles onto the ground. There’s a soft sound of wood hitting wood and he looks down at the dock that he and Dean built, leading out from the pebbly beach towards the center of the lake. Tied to the end of the dock is the boat, finished, painted and lacquered and 100% finished. With Dean’s help it had only taken 10 months to finish it, and now it sat floating on the lake, knocking gently against the pier.

‘It’ll be there when we get back’, Cas thinks, and turns back to smile at Dean.

“Let’s go then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is the end! Thanks so much for reading- all comments are shared with my co-author! :) Thank you!


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